Reality Minus Expectations
by Incog Ninja
Summary: AH. When it comes to Forks's social scene, event planner Bella Swan is a smash success. Her marriage, however, crashed and burned. The town's newest real estate attorney arrives in time to add some heat of his own.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is an ~imaginary Forks. Just roll with me, cool?**

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

I would kill for a margarita right now.

I suck at moving. Everything's always too fucking heavy, and I'm weak. And I'm usually sweaty, because I'm trying so hard to just get it done and over with.

But I think this place is going to work out all right. It's cozy, and I don't need a lot of space. Plus, it's in a great location. I won't need to drive everyday to work or to the store or my PO Box.

"Where do you want the dresser, Bells?" Jake and Paul wedge their giant frames through the entryway of my new apartment, hauling my mother's antique oak dresser.

Jake is relieved. I think he was worried about where I'd go. It's so hard to find a decent living space in this town for less than two grand a month.

"Uh…" I assess the 300 sq. ft. studio that I will now be sharing with my cat, Angel, and shrug indiscriminately toward one of the four walls. "Over there?"

Jacob Black and I met at Arizona State. I grew up in Phoenix, and Jake is from a small town outside Flagstaff. We hit it off immediately. Jake was funny and warm and an all-around nice guy, and I was weirdly shy. He kinda took me under his wing, I guess.

Jake and Paul deftly place my dresser where I have indicated, and Jake makes his way into the kitchen area to help me unpack.

In the divorce agreement that Jake and I are writing, we have split our material things, like dishes and linens, right down the middle. Jake and I have always been very even and fair with each other.

The dissolution of our marriage has been just as benign as everything else in our relationship. It's been almost simple, and we haven't really argued much about anything.

Jacob gives in and answers every demand I have, just to make me happy. There's a part of me that wants to pick a fight over the stupid, fucking wagon-wheel coffee table or whatever, just to feel something more than ennui in this process. But he doesn't bite, which is unfortunate because I think I might like to be bitten.

Part of me wonders if it's just me. Like, am I so substandard that I can't even form a loving and passionate bond with the man who has cared for me and protected me with all his might for the past 10 years? What a rancid bitch.

"Fuck!" I curse, as I drop the mixing bowls that I'm trying to unpack to the counter, and then the hardwood floor, with a grace that I will never possess.

"Eh-eh," Jake throws his hands out to stop me from moving, as I attempt to clean up the mess that I've made. "I'll get it. I don't want you to cut yourself."

He's always worked so hard to give me what he thinks I need and want. The thing is, that he couldn't possibly know what I want, when I don't even know. Yet, he works overtime to bring it.

For a long time, I thought that was cool. It was like he was bringing me things that I needed and wanted, before I even knew that I wanted them. It was like he was some kind of angel or we were pre-destined or some shit.

"Jesus Christ, Jake," I mutter for the billionth time since I began to realize that I don't need an angel and pre-destiny is bullshit. "I'm not a fucking toddler."

Jacob glares at me for the billionth time since I've so explicitly expressed my disenchantment with us, as he quickly picks up chunks of the shattered bowls, and then sweeps the smaller shards into a dustpan. Meanwhile, I give up and let him think he's saving the day.

I poke around the littered remains of what my predecessor left in the refrigerator in search of something alcoholic in nature. Because I'm feeling sorry for myself, and I need to drown poor, poor pitiful me in beer.

"Success!" I exclaim and pop the top off the Stella Artois.

After taking a nice long pull off the bottle, I cheerfully hand it to Jake, who continues to glare at me but takes it from my hand anyway and sips.

"Ang leave this behind?" Jake asks the bottle.

"She must've." I shrug, as I snatch the bottle back like he's the greedy, selfish asshole here and not me.

"She also left a bottle of Veuve Clicquot." I sigh, as I take another sip. "She must think the failure of our union is something to celebrate."

Jake and I were married in Forks three-years ago. It was small and quiet with about thirty of our friends and family members. We celebrated the nuptials with a stellar meal at my favorite restaurant in town and several beers at the Irish pub, where Jake is the manager. We did not consummate our marriage that night. It was just a day like any other day.

My mom once told me that you couldn't have a successful marriage if the sex isn't any good. She told me that she and Phil, her new husband, didn't even sleep on their wedding night. She said they made love for hours and ate berries off each other's parts, or some shit.

Despite the fact that I was certainly not witness to a happy marriage between my parents, Renee and Charlie, I actually believed her when she told me to expect romance and bells and fireworks. At least, I wanted to believe her.

"Bells," Jacob uses his Daddy-reprimanding-toddler voice, which bugs the living shit out of me. "You know she was just trying to be nice."

"I was joking, Jake." I roll my eyes and finish off the beer, then reach inside the fridge for another. "Lighten up."

Paul enters the apartment with one of the last remaining boxes. I hand him one of the brews and grab two more for Jake and me.

"I hate Stella," Paul grumbles, as he stares at the bottle of Pilsner like it's a bottle full of jizz. "Why can't people just drink regular beer? Like Budweiser or Coors Light."

"Because it sucks?" I suggest, and Jacob laughs. "Just drink it, Nancy. It's free."

"Nancy?" Paul quizzes, as he takes an enormous gulp of his beer and winces. "Isn't that what you call your gay boyfriend? 'Coz I ain't gay, Bells."

"Mary, asswipe." I glare at Paul. "I call Peter 'Mary'. I just referred to you as Nancy—as in Nancy Boy."

"What's the difference?" Paul is dim.

"Besides the fact that they're two different names entirely?" I mumble wryly and set my beer down before turning to the bathroom door. "I gotta pee. You guys talk about what you want to eat."

Paul isn't homophobic or anything. He's just a little slow on the uptake, and I tire of explaining every-fucking-thing to him. Also, I like giving him shit.

I'm done peeing, so I wash my hands and come back out to find that the guys are done with their beers and have yet to decide what they want for dinner.

"So," I sigh and sock Jake in the arm. "I still owe you bitches some food. Sushi?"

"What's wrong with pizza?" Paul groans, as Jake rifles through my bag full of take out menus. "We had sushi on your birthday, Bells."

"Whatever..." I roll my eyes, because I don't care what we eat, I just want to eat for fuck's sake. "Let's just eat. You're getting cranky, you must have low blood sugar or something."

We order a pizza from across the street. It's my favorite, New York Style with artichokes, sun-dried tomatoes, olives, and extra sauce. Mmm…

Paul and Jacob go to pick up the pizza and some Budweiser for Nancy Boy, while I unpack a few more boxes and try to find silverware, napkins, and plates. I text Rosalie to let her know that I'm eating with the guys, but I expect her at my house in an hour, ready to polish off that bottle of champagne.

She texts me back: If P & J r still there whn I get thr, someone's gonna lose a testicle. I'm in no mood.

Ah, Rose… Gotta love her.

When the guys return, we eat our pizza in silence, and they help me clean up the plates and forks when we're done. Paul gives me the one-armed hug, fist-bumps Jake, like a douchebag, and bids us farewell.

"Hey." Jake throws an arm around my shoulders as Paul stumbles down the stairs. "When you come over Sunday to get the rest of your stuff, let's try to finish up on our papers. Leah's been buggin' me about it."

Leah Clearwater is Jacob's girlfriend. She is convinced that my purpose in life is to torture Jacob, and although I do end up hurting him more often than not, I think she should mind her own fucking business. She's a total bitch to me, but she is obviously in love with Jacob, and he's nuts about her.

"Yeah." I try very hard to be pleasant and smile up at him, but the smile feels more like a grimace.

I don't really know how to gracefully say goodbye to my soon-to-be-ex-husband. We haven't been sleeping in the same bed for almost a year, but we haven't slept in a separate house in more than five-years.

"Bells…" Jacob turns me around in front of him to face him. "Things are weird now—and awkward—but we'll be okay."

I nod and feel tears pool in my eyes, as he embraces me in a big, warm hug that almost breaks my heart.

"This isn't as easy as I thought it was going to be," I mumble into his chest, soaking up his warmth and drying my eyes with his t-shirt.

"Nothing ever is, Bells." Jacob strokes my hair and holds me until I stop weeping like a little girl.

We say 'goodbye' and Jacob walks out my door.

* * *

"I can make myself come in about two and a half minutes." I'm digging in my freezer, because I know I bought ice cream today when Jake and I went to the store. "So it's not like it's hard or especially noteworthy. What I want is the elusive connection, the intensity, the passion."

Rose and I are in my studio listening to the Latin inspired disco music from the bistro downstairs after unpacking, and kind of putting away, all of my shit. We're drinking the champagne that Angela left for me, and Rose is painting her toenails pink.

"It's fantasy, Bella."

Rose has propped one of her tanned and toned legs up on a throw pillow that I bought for two dollars and fifty cents at a garage sale last fall, as she addresses me like I'm new to the game of life.

"That's why romance novels sell," she continues. "Impractical, desperate women read that shit and dream that one day they will meet their Prince Charming and live Happily Ever After. Pure. Fiction."

Rose and I are perfectly matched. We have the same sense of right and wrong regarding this great big world we live in, we like the same music and movies, and we laugh at the same jokes.

We also have similar professional goals that complement each other very well.

Last year we started an event business together. Rose is a genius with operations and design, and I am a peacemaker by trade. Unfortunately, my peace making skills don't always spill into my interpersonal relationships.

"Dude," I take a gigantic bite of the Karmel Sutra sensation straight from the carton and talk with my mouth full. "I'm not looking for Prince Charming—you and I both know I'm no princess—I'm just looking for something to make the daily grind a little easier to swallow, you know? It's like how I run 20-miles a week, so whenever I want to down a pint of Ben & Jerry's, it's cool."

Rose looks pointedly at me, and then at my caramel, cream, and chocolate treasure, with utter disgust.

"You're a pig," she asserts and returns to painting her toes.

Rose is also the most stunningly beautiful woman I have ever seen in real life. This is where we are opposites; she is 5'9", blond, blue-eyed, and a size 4. And I am 5-inches shorter, brown, brown, and barely-squeezing-my-ass-into a size 4.

Fuck you and the 18" circumference of your thighs, Hale.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes and plop down on the couch next to her, not giving a shit about her pedicure. "Maybe my perfect guy is like Shrek. Ya know, big, dumb, farts a lot, but is totally smitten with me?"

"Shrek." Rose glares at me, as she uses an acetone soaked Q-Tip to repair the damage my fat ass has done to her perfect little toes. "Bella, you're divorcing Shrek."

I stare dumbly at her as she tosses the Q-Tip aside to finish the paint job.

"I will never forget the night you told me about fucking him and how he was all sweaty palms and slobbery kisses… and the farting thing?" She shivers. "I mean… everybody farts, but come on. Every time he comes? Did he not ever think that maybe he was a little too comfortable with you?"

"Yeah," I shudder at the memories flashing in my mind and drip ice cream on my shirt like a fucking slob. "You're right. I need to step outside my comfort zone. Maybe I should be looking for Prince Charming."

"B," Rose has finished the paint job and is now recapping the bottle of polish. "You shouldn't be looking for anyone just now, except maybe yourself. Ya know?"

I look at her in disbelief.

"Don't look at me like I'm a pod person, Bella," Rose snatches my ice cream out of my clutches and takes a bite. "I'm not saying you should set out on a road to self-discovery or start reading Dr. Phil books, I'm just saying… give yourself some time. Take a break."

"You're right," I sigh and acknowledge with a grimace. "I'm just… lonely? I dunno… It's like I spent all that time with Jacob waiting for us to be… more. And it never happened."

Rose nods, and her eyebrows crease in compassionate understanding as she hands the pint back to me in consolation.

"I mean," I sigh and plunk the damned evil confection on the ottoman and grab my flute full of French elixir. "I don't need a man to, like, 'complete me', or whatever—it'd just be nice to know I'm not totally dysfunctional. Like, maybe I can have a relationship and not suck at it."

Rose looks thoughtful for a minute. Then sweeps her gams off the couch and waddles on her heels to the liquor cabinet for the bottle of Stranahan's and two shot glasses. She returns to the couch, pours us each a shot of the fantastically smoky and smooth whiskey, and relaxes back into the cushions, handing one of the drinks to me.

"To conquering expectations." Rose raises a glass and an eyebrow in toast.

I feel my face break into a slow grin, and I turn more directly, raising the delicious whiskey to meet her glass.

"Conquering and redefining," I say with finality, as we toast and shoot.

Rose and I have bonded over many things. A few of those things include our lack of satisfaction with ourselves, in our relationships, and with the age-old demands that society places on us as women.

I spent the better part of my formative years caring for my mother, then my father, in a capacity that no teenager should ever be expected to fulfill. I then jumped into a relationship with a sweet boy who saw that I was dissatisfied and tried very hard to remedy that nuisance by playing the perfect boyfriend and best friend.

Rose was never expected to care for anyone, nor was she made to be accountable for anything. Her family has money, a lot of it, and she sailed through her teen years thinking she would go to college, get her MRS degree, and live happily ever after with a perfect husband, a vacation house on the lake, and 2.5 kids.

No one ever told either of us that life is rarely ever what you imagine.

"Damn, that shit's good," I breathe and lick my lips. "I fucking love whiskey, dude. If I could just drink it all day every day, I would."

And since I'm an ungrateful harpy, I fucked up my shot at happiness.

"Then you'd be what we call an alcoholic, Bella." Rose pours two more shots and takes the bottle back to the cabinet. "Bloated, blood shot, probably not exactly fresh smelling."

And ever since Rose's college boyfriend and three of his fraternity brothers raped her one night before graduation, Rose has a pretty bruised perception of bliss.

"Kind of a female version of Keith Richards," she jokes, as she returns to the couch and sits again, picking up her glass. "And I'm really more of a Beatles fan."

I met Rose three-years ago at the Sojourner Salutes Party honoring the sheriff and three other outstanding Forks citizens. I was representing the film festival that I worked for, and Rose was catering the event. She finished early, and we started chatting over tuna tartar and Mumm's.

Toward the end of the night, Jacob was getting restless and cranky. He came up to me saying that it was time to go. Jake's a big guy - well over six feet tall and built like a linebacker - so I guess if you don't know Jake, and you have a predisposition to not trust men, he can scare the fuck out of you.

_"Take your fucking hand off her," Rose growled low and fierce, with panic in her eyes._

_Jake was never physically abusive. I knew he would never hurt me. But, like I said, he could be intimidating._

_"It's okay…" I shook my head and rolled my eyes in her direction. "He's just –"_

_"Who the hell are you?" Jacob let go of my arm and faced off with Rose. I thought that he must've been uncommonly pissed off, because he just didn't ever talk to women in that tone of voice._

_"I'm your worst nightmare if you even think about hurting this woman." Rose faced him, shoulders squared, look of determination on her face, but she was still trembling._

_I calmed them both, reminding them that we'd all been drinking, and it was just a misunderstanding. Jacob said he couldn't believe that Rose would think he would ever hurt me, but he apologized to Rose for being rude and said he'd wait for me in the car._

_"Sorry." I set down my drink and turned to face Rose. "He's really not a bad guy."_

_"Yeah, well, you can never be too careful." Rose glanced after Jacob's retreating form, shrugging. "But… I've been told I have a tendency to overreact."_

_Rose reached into her bag that was stashed under the table and pulled out a silver business card holder._

_"I hope I didn't make a horrible impression on you." She handed me a card with her name and contact information. "I'd really like to get together sometime and talk more about your event planning ideas."_

_When I looked up from her card, she was contrite. I could tell she felt regret for how she treated Jacob, and I wondered what triggered such a strong reaction. I hoped that Rosalie Hale and I would one day become close enough that she would confide in me, and maybe I could somehow repay her for looking out for me the way she intended to tonight._

_"I'd like that, Rose." I smiled broadly and hugged her._

_Two weeks later, over chips and cheese and too-strong rum drinks, Rose told me all about Royce King and how he smashed her dreams. How he left her feeling guilty and useless, and how she has looked at very few men with anything but disdain since. Who could blame her?_

"Are you seeing Laurie tomorrow?" I ask Rose, as I stand and walk to the sink to rinse our flutes and shot glasses.

Laurie is a shrink, and even though her expertise is couple's counseling, she's done a fucking amazing job helping Rose through her nightmares and insomnia and PTSS. Rose recommended Laurie to Jake and I when I told her we were 'having problems'. Laurie helped Jake and I realize that we needed to split. Laurie rules.

"Yeah," Rose answers, as she stands and stretches. She slips her feet into her flip-flops and pulls her micro-fleece over her head. "You wanna meet up for lunch after?"

"Sounds like a plan." I walk her to the door and hug and kiss her goodnight. "Text me when you're done."

"Ciao, baby." She exits my apartment, and I lock the door behind her. I do a perfunctory job of teeth brushing and face washing before grabbing a pillow and blanket and collapsing on my couch for the night. I have to sleep on the couch because my futon isn't being delivered until tomorrow.

As sleep claims me, I am lulled by the distant sounds of a Latin beat and I dream of a lover who is sensual and reverent, who kisses me with intensity and passion, and someone who calls me baby.

**Thank you, MsKathy for encouraging me all those years ago to write this fic, and for the red pen. Thanks also to Moojuicey for the beta work. RME was a blast to write, and I made so many friends in the process. xox**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: As you will see, a couple of things have been tweaked, but it's the same ol' story.**

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"Daddy?" Delia is sitting on my lap, peeling the paper off a cupcake and squeezing her stuffed pig under her arm. "Did you have a happy day?"

"I did, baby." I nod and smooth her hair back as she shoves her tiny, frosting covered fingers into my mouth.

"Did you like all your presents?" she asks as she smears frosting all over her own mouth, and I can't keep from laughing myself, because my daughter is so beautiful and perfect, and she makes me infinitely happy.

"I loved my presents," I answer and shift her weight so that I can swing my legs up onto the chaise lounger and cradle her in my arms for just a few more minutes.

"Why don't you tell me what you want for your birthday?" I ask and tuck a few curls behind her ear.

She babbles excitedly about Barbie and Webkinz and Ariel before Heidi appears at my side with a warm washcloth in one hand and a whiskey on the rocks in the other.

"This is for you, compliments of Mr. Whitlock." Heidi hands me the whiskey, and then holds out the washcloth toward Delia. "And this is for you, sticky-sweet girl!"

Delia squeals and tries to evade her nanny's attempts at cleaning the copious amount of chocolate from her face and hands. I laugh and try to hold her still with one hand, and mentally freeze this moment because I will miss her so much.

"Okay," Heidi tosses the cloth over her forearm and reaches out to pull Delia up into her embrace. "Time for dreams."

I kiss Delia on the top of her head, and she pats me on the cheek and yawns. No matter how much sugar she ingested, she had a big night full of entertaining her daddy and his friends at his birthday party, and she is wiped out.

"Night, angel," I mumble and feel her little fingers slip through mine as Heidi walks toward the glass doors. "I'll tuck you in before I leave."

Delia doesn't hear my voice trail off, as she plays with Heidi's hair and talks about birthday presents and dreams and cupcakes as they disappear into the house.

There are approximately 80 people at this party and I could not feel more fucking isolated. I shouldn't complain. Tanya, my wife, is beautiful—exquisite, really—charming, clever, and a loving, caring mother to Delia.

But things aren't always what they seem.

_One night, almost four years ago, Tanya called me in a blind panic. She was pregnant. Although Tanya and I hadn't slept together since college, I understood immediately why she was calling._

_"Shhh…" I tried to calm her as I walked onto my balcony, silently sliding the door shut, allowing my overnight guest uninterrupted sleep. "Tell me what you're thinking. What're your options?"_

_"Edward…" she breathed into the phone, sobbing quietly. "I can't pass up this opportunity. I'm almost thirty, for Christ's sake!"_

_I thought about what she was saying._

_I was thirty-years-old, doing well and feeling satisfied as a partner at Denali & Cullen Law in Chicago. Our families spent holidays together and traveled all over the world. Tanya and I had been headed in this direction since we were six-years-old._

_I took a drag from my cigarette and exhaled slowly._

_"E…" Tanya whispered, her voice thick with tears and desperation. "You still there?"_

_"Yeah." I shook my head, bracing myself for what would go down in history as the most gallant and fucking foolish instant of my life. "I was just thinking… Me and you. We'll get married. It makes sense."_

_There was a long, quiet moment, while I continued to smoke and Tanya's sobs became more sniffles than tears. And then…_

_"You'd do that for me?" She sounded surprised, which surprised the hell out of me._

_Tanya had always painted us as meant-to-be. She used to chase me and tackle me, and then kiss me when we were little, taunting in a sing-song voice, "One day, Edward Cullen, you'll love me and make me your wife."_

_I was sure, even in that moment, that she had planned this pregnancy to achieve this exact result. But who was I to argue? I had to settle down sooner or later, it might as well be then. And if I didn't marry Tanya, who would I marry?_

_"You know I'd do anything for you, T."_

_She sighed with relief and began to gush. "I'm only five-weeks along," she said, which confirmed my suspicion that she was paying pretty close attention for this to be a surprise pregnancy. "So… how should we tell the family?"_

_Five weeks prior, my cousin Emmett and I spent the first-half of November in Southern Italy with Tanya and her sister, Kate. During that time, I was busy fucking every Greco-Roman beauty I could get my hands on. Evidently, Tanya was up to similar activities with the male population, and we were faced with the consequences. At least it was good for me, too._

_"Well," I stubbed the charred remains of my Marlboro into the flowerpot next to the glass door. "Next week is New Year's Eve at Carlisle and Esme's. Can you hold out until then? We'll tell them then."_

_"Oh, Edward—you won't regret this. I'll be the best wife."_

_"I know," I responded with a hollowness in my chest that should not be present when a man proposes marriage to the woman with whom he plans to spend his life. "It'll be great. Now, get some rest."_

_"Good night, E," she said._

_And I clicked off the phone._

Fast forward to tonight, my thirty-fourth birthday. Tanya has invited half the city's elite, and she's playing the perfect hostess and wife.

I feel my mop of hair ruffling and see some kind of stiff, cardboard-like intrusion on my brow.

"Sorry." Tanya smiles, entering my line of vision as I shove the asinine party favor she's placed on my head out of my eyes. "It was a joke."

"Don't apologize." I sigh as I continue pulling the hat from my head and drop it to my side. "I'm the one being a dick… I'm sorry."

We're both sorry.

"It's your party, Edward." Tanya joins me on the chaise by our pool and drags the glass from my fingers. "You can cry if you want to."

She takes a sip of the outrageously, yet aptly, priced whiskey and smiles in appreciation.

"Smooth." She continues to taste the liquid on her tongue as she hands the glass back to me. "Jasper knows gorgeous whiskey."

"Yep." I nod in appreciation for the fantastic gift sent to me directly from Aberdeenshire village, glad for the distraction and a moment of solace between us before the impending aggravation.

I can see the wheels in her head turning, contemplating how to stall me. But we're not going over this again. I'm sure there is something very wrong with me for rejecting a fantastic woman like Tanya, but we just don't fit. It isn't working.

A few months ago, I received a phone call from my college buddy, Jasper. He told me about some new property developments in Forks, where he grew up, thinking I might like to get in on the investment side.

I concocted a plan to insert Denali & Cullen into the management and development of these properties. I decided it best that we plant offices there. Tanya and I discussed our situation, and agreed that I should move to Forks.

"So…" Tanya smirks and runs a finger around the corner of my mouth. "You and Delia had a cupcake I see."

I feel my lips curve into a half-grin and lick the evidence of the chocolate frosting I recently enjoyed with my baby girl.

"Are you sure you have to leave tonight?" She is trying to use my apprehension about leaving Delia to postpone my departure.

"Tanya, we've talked about this. We agreed that my leaving is for the best."

_As Tanya's pregnancy progressed, it became apparent that we didn't love each other the way a husband and wife should, and we couldn't force it. Right around Delia's first birthday, we agreed to have an open relationship, in which we were free to be with and see whomever we desired. Then, about six months ago, my mother found Tanya being free on the patio with Allejandro, the twenty-year-old boy I hired to clean our pool._

_Esme had returned stateside from my parents' Loire Valley château, where she left my father to complete some business dealings before he was to return the following week. Instead of going to her own home alone, she chose to make a surprise visit to bring Delia a few gifts she'd picked up during her two-month stay in France. Instead of bothering Tanya or I for a ride to our place, Esme hailed a taxi and used a key to let herself in to our townhouse._

_That afternoon, Esme lost her cool, calling Tanya a liar and a jezebel. She kicked Allejandro out of our house. Tanya called me at the office to tell me I was needed at home right away, briefing me on the less than pleasant events that had occurred._

_When I arrived home, Heidi and Delia were just getting back from the park. I asked Heidi to put Delia down for a nap when Tanya met me in the kitchen._

_"Esme's in the library." Tanya reached up to straighten my collar, a nervous habit of hers._

_"We have nothing to be ashamed of," I blindly assured her as we made our way to the library. "What we do in our own home is our business."_

_We entered the room, where my mother was gazing out the window onto the terrace with her back to the door. The midday sun was glowing around her through the window, but I could feel a chill the second she turned to look at me._

_I crossed the room, removing my jacket and loosening my tie, poured three scotches, placing one glass in front of my mother, which she ignored, and taking the other two to sit near Tanya on the sofa._

_"Edward," Esme began, exhaling loudly. "You seem somewhat unmoved by Tanya's behavior."_

_"Well…" I handed Tanya her drink, which she quickly gulped down. "It isn't exactly news to me. We have an agreement."_

_Frozen, Esme gaped at us as I perched on the arm of the sofa. I placed a palm on Tanya's stiff shoulder, preparing to support our marital façade._

_"What kind of agreement?"_

_Tanya was silent, as my mother awaited an explanation. Although I am a grown man, I still somehow felt compelled to defend the life we chose. But how could I explain that Delia wasn't really her granddaughter, and that Tanya and I did not have the marriage we purported to have?_

_"Tanya and I have an open relationship." I didn't sound nearly as cool and confident as I needed to sound. "We haven't been physically intimate in years and decided it best to pursue our physical needs elsewhere."_

_Esme tilted her head, confused._

_"What do you mean 'you haven't been intimate in years'?" Esme asked in disbelief. "What about Delia? Edward, everyone has rough patches, especially in early-parenthood–"_

_"Delia's not my biological daughter," I interrupted her impatiently._

_Esme steadied herself on the armchair in front of her, the color drained from her face. I quickly set my glass down and rushed to her side to settle her in the chair._

_"I'll take that scotch now." Her voice was just above a whisper._

_I fetched her drink and brought the decanter back to the sitting area to refill Tanya's glass before sitting to face Esme. I quietly explained that when Tanya discovered she was pregnant, I proposed marriage. Tanya exhausted her glass a second time._

_"We weren't in love, but we thought with a marriage and a child, we could build love." She had to understand what I was saying. "We thought we could eventually have what you and Pops have."_

_Esme stiffened in her chair._

_"Your father and I did not build our love, Edward," Esme responded resentfully as she stood with renewed vigor and paced the floor. "We built a life together, yes, but the love was already there! I cannot believe that two grown, intelligent people-"_

_"We were wrong," I shouted, cutting her off and glaring at her because she made me say it out loud. "And now we have to deal with it. We still have Delia to consider, Mother. Do you think this is easy for us? We're doing the best we can."_

_There were several silent minutes where my mother and I faced off before her expression softened._

_Tanya shifted on the couch behind me and cleared her throat. She approached me then, and placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked into her eyes and they were pleading with me not to leave her, not to succumb, to show her the way. I reached for her other hand and squeezed it in mine, silently telling her to trust me, telling her that I would never abandon her._

_The fact remained that we needed to admit what we were doing couldn't last, though. It would never be enough._

_We exchanged a final moment of resignation; acknowledgment that the carefully laid veneer of our marriage had been damaged beyond repair._

_"I'll go to my parents' for the night—take Delia with me," Tanya muttered. "We can talk more tomorrow."_

_Tanya turned and strode from the library as I slowly looked back to my mother. I held Esme's gaze as my world began to shift._

_"I apologize for my reaction." Esme closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before approaching me once more. She didn't need to apologize to me, though. Her strong reaction was what brought me out of my haze of denial. She leaned forward and grasped my hands as I continued to stare at her saying nothing._

_"But Edward…" Esme quietly beseeched me. "I know you wanted more. How could you lie to yourself and everyone around you for the past three years about something so sacred? You've convinced yourself you're happy with this, but we both know you aren't."_

_My mother called me out as a liar because I was pretending I didn't care that I had dedicated my life to a woman I would never love as more than a friend. She was right to call me out, too—of course I cared. _

_My shoulders slumped._

_"You're an honorable man," Esme said. "But you cannot continue to do this. You owe it to Tanya, to yourself, and to Delia."_

_I ran a hand through my hair, stood, and rounded the chair to assume my mother's former station, staring out the window. The thoughts in my mind were clicking into place._

_"Delia…" Esme inhaled deeply and moved to my side, placing an arm around my waist. "She will always be my grandchild, no matter whose DNA she carries, but if you leave Tanya, or if you ask her to leave-"_

_Delia was the reason Tanya and I stayed together. I wanted her, and I knew the coming change would forever impact the family I had tried so hard to build and protect._

_"Tanya will be fair," I said. _

_I wrapped an arm around my mother's slight shoulders, hugging her to my side. We eventually wandered to the kitchen and made sandwiches as we continued to talk about Delia and possible outcomes._

_That night I thought about where to go from there. I didn't sleep at all, and in the morning I resolved to discuss a trial separation with Tanya._

"C'mere." I reach across the lounge chair for Tanya's hip and pull her back to my chest, wrapping my other arm around the front of her shoulders.

"I'm not abandoning Delia." I nuzzle her soft, blond curls with my nose. "And I'm not abandoning you."

I'm sure that we look like a loving and romantic couple sharing an intimate moment on a beautiful summer evening in the city.

"If we had it to do over again," she says in a small, weak voice that I'm not used to hearing come out of her mouth, and I'm pretty sure that I'll never hear again. "Do you think it'd be easier?"

"No." I press my lips to her temple in an effort to console us both. "I just haven't found what I'm looking for yet."

"Well, I know that you'll find it." Tanya sits up, pulling from my embrace and turning to look into my eyes. "You'll meet whatever it is head on."

She sounds so certain. I want to be the kind of person she seems to think I am; she thinks I'm not a coward and that I've got it all figured out.

Tanya stands and smoothes her gown over the fronts of her thighs as she surveys the flourishing crowd of partygoers.

"If I don't see you before you leave…" she turns to me and we stare for a flicker of a second.

There's nothing left to say.

"Goodbye, Tanya."

Her expression is finally resolute.

"Goodbye, Edward."

Tanya strides off into the throng of people, smiling, hugging.

I sit in the chair and finish my whiskey before quietly escaping into my darkened bedroom. I switch on a few lamps and begin to gather my luggage. I want to kiss Delia goodbye before I head down to the taxi, and it'll be here in 10 minutes.

I walk down the hall to Delia's door, and it's partially open, her nightlight glowing just enough to light my way to her tiny, sleeping form. She's curled into a tight little ball hugging Mr. Gordo for all he's worth.

I stand and stare for a moment, hands in my pockets. I'm in awe of her beauty. She looks so much like Tanya, and my heart clenches in my chest remembering our childhood.

I think about Delia growing into an adolescent, and then an adult, and I silently swear on my life to protect this little girl from as much pain and heartache as I possibly can.

Delia stirs, sighing and murmuring something about birthday cake. I straighten her blankets and pull them back up around her, tucking her in nice and cozy. I kiss her forehead, and I tell her I love her.

I know I can't be away from her for too long, and I will seek joint-custody. I still have hope that Tanya will be fair with me on that.

I make my way out of her room and down the stairs to the front door, and out to the waiting car. My eyes are wet with tears as I say a silent prayer that Delia will one day understand why her mother and I have chosen to do what we have done.

"What airline?" the driver asks as we approach the terminal.

"Uh…" I flip through my phone, searching my itinerary. "United."

I check my bags curbside, do all the things I need to do to board my flight, and two scotches later, I'm in Seattle, being greeted by Victoria with a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Birthday, Edward," she purrs in my ear as we embrace, and I feel my pants get a little bit tighter.

I grab my bags, and we head to her car. As we drive to her condo, she tells me about the remodel and color chips and fabrics. When we arrive, I don't want to waste any more time pretending that I care whether or not her countertops are marble or granite, so I drop my bags in the foyer, look her in the eyes, and tell her that I don't want to talk.

After a beat she smirks and drops to her knees, and my cock is in her mouth in less than twenty-seconds.

It's hot and desperate, like that frantic first fuck after a two-week family vacation without your girlfriend when you were fifteen. It isn't what I want, but it's what I can have for now.

Victoria finishes me off, offers me a drink, and we head to her bedroom. I'm still on edge, though, so I fuck her in her $3,500 sheets, and she whispers my name when she comes.

As I wander to her balcony for a smoke, and she snores softly in her bed, I think about my bond with Delia and my life ahead. I think about what I have and what I want. I think about ways to blend these things, and I think that if I am successful at that, I think I might be happy.

**Thanks to MsKathy and Moojuicey for all the things.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: this is Tanya's POV and the beginning is set about three years ago, then there's a random jump to E's birthday party in the middle.**

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"Aww," I coo as I shuffle into my roomy spa-inspired bathroom with an aching back and swollen feet. "You ran me a bath."

Edward is standing there looking warm and comforting as usual, head tilted and smiling that lopsided grin. He's drying his hands on a fluffy, white hand towel.

There are dozens of white tealites twinkling on nearly every stable surface in the room. The sleeves of his baby pink button down shirt are rolled to his elbows and he's discarded his belt and shoes. He's barefoot and his dark gray dress slacks are hanging low on his slim hips.

"I did," he nods in confirmation as he checks the thermometer gauging the water temperature. "One hundred degrees, night blooming jasmine and a glass of Pellegrino… no fruit."

I smile broadly and shake my head. He will always know me better than even I know myself.

Edward and I grew up together. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to play the guitar, how to take a bong hit, and Edward gave me my first orgasm when I was 14 years old.

I never considered that this pregnancy could negatively impact him. I honestly believed that what he and I both needed was to settle down and have a family. I assumed that's what he wanted.

Every day I get bigger, more emotional, and less confident that this is the life I dreamed of as a young girl. I'm less convinced that he loves me and wants this.

How _could_ he want this?

Yet here he is, elbow deep in floral scented bubbles, waiting on me hand and foot with a smile on his beautiful face. But the smile doesn't reach his eyes anymore. It hasn't for a long time.

Edward leaves the side of the tub to take hold of a hairbrush that's sitting on my vanity. He asks me to come and sit on the padded chair and once I do, he begins to lightly comb through my wavy locks with fingers and bristles.

My eyes drift shut as he gently massages my ultra-sensitive scalp and my entire body is aflame with his touch. I can hear him humming and the tiles are warm beneath my feet as my body sways comfortably with his sweet caresses.

I will forever cherish the tranquility and sensuality of this moment.

Edward slowly and carefully twists my hair into a loose bun and secures it with a clip. It's high enough on my head that I will easily be able to lay back in the tub and fully relax.

_He will always know me better than even I know myself._

"Come on, Sug," Edward pulls me to stand and sweetly grasps the ties on my robe. "Let's get this thing off so I can make me you feel good."

_He always knows how to make me feel good._

"You really know how to woo a pregnant lady, you know that Cullen?" I look into his eyes, and he chuckles and bites his bottom lip.

He slips the robe from my shoulders and tosses it over the bench at the foot of the tub. In an instant, he is kneeling before me as if I'm some kind of goddess.

As if I am worthy of his worship.

Edward tenderly caresses my arms, my wrists, and then my sides. His warm fingers gently stroke my round belly before making their way to my thighs, my knees, and my calves.

"Close your eyes," he mumbles, and I hold his shoulders and exhale as he kisses my belly, my hips, and my wrists.

I feel like a frail paper lantern in his arms. There is a flame inside me burning bright and my skin is delicate, fragile to his touch.

Edward takes my hand in his and stands to walk us to the claw foot tub.

When I was nine, I lost my sister Irina's My Little Pony down the well beside my grandparents' orchard. Edward enlisted his cousin Emmett's help, and since Edward was the lighter of the two boys, he rode the pulley down the well to retrieve the doll.

I could tell he was scared, but he did it anyway, because I was crying about how I would get into trouble for losing a toy I never even asked to use. And Edward did not want to see me cry.

When I was 16, I wrecked my mother's Mercedes. I was talking on the car phone and didn't see the pick up truck waiting to exit the parking lot. I drove right under the front fender of the F150.

I called Edward and he immediately came to the site. He paid the guy $100 to not call the cops and then called his friend Tony, who ended up doing us a discreet favor. By the time my parents returned from France, Edward's bank account was $3,000 lighter and my mother's Mercedes was as good as new.

I've come to realize in recent months that I've always seen Edward as my rescuer. I've always known that Edward would take care of me and all I ever wanted was to give back to him. I've always wanted to be to him what he was to me.

I've also come to realize that many other members of our inner circle see him in a similar light.

Last summer my mother and I had lunch with Edward's mother, Esme, as we often do. We met at West Town Tavern because the service is incomparable, and the menu is delicious and varied.

"_Esme, you look fantastic!" My mother chirped as we joined Esme at our usual table. "Those vitamins you've been taking are doing wonders for your skin, dear."_

_My mother and Esme kissed cheeks before I hugged Esme and concurred with my mother's observation. Esme was always beautiful, no matter which vitamins she took. I only hoped that I would be that striking when I was her age._

"_You both are just too sweet," Esme fussed and smiled, then reached a hand out to lightly grasp a lock of my hair. "Tanya, darling, you're letting your hair grow again. It looks lovely!"_

_I attempted to thank Esme for her reciprocal flattery, but my mother interrupted me._

"_Yes, doesn't it? I told her it's very becoming," my mother droned. "Besides, if Tanya is to keep the attention of your dear Edward, she'll need all the help she can get!"_

"_Oh, Carmen," Esme scoffed and rolled her eyes as we sat and began to look over the menu items. "I really don't think that Tanya needs to plot and scheme to gain the attention of _any_ man."_

_Esme gazed into my eyes with, what I interpreted at the time as, an encouraging look and patted my hand reassuringly._

"_If it's meant to be," She turned her attention back to her menu to make up her mind about what to have for lunch, and then took a sip from her water. "Then it will be."_

_I smiled softly to myself and reviewed the menu choices. At that point I believed that Esme felt the same as me. I had always thought that Edward and I were meant to be, we each simply needed to sow our wild oats, so to speak._

"_That's a lovely sentiment," my mother sneered as she perused her menu. "But every woman knows that a man doesn't always recognize what's best for him. Sometimes a man needs a little… encouragement."_

_Esme chuckled lightly and shifted in her seat as the waiter approached to take our drink orders._

"_Manhattan please, Marco," Esme smiled pleasantly at the server and he grinned back._

"_Bombay Sapphire, stirred, one olive," my mother snapped, always the Drama Queen._

_I rolled my eyes, smirked at Marco and ordered a glass of Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc. Marco smiled at me appreciatively._

"_Esme." My mother closed her menu and clasped her hands in front of her, evidently decided on her entrée. "Our children are not getting any younger."_

_She was right, I wasn't getting any younger and neither was Edward. I thought that maybe we should consider settling down. We traveled together and spent holidays together. It wasn't as if we were incompatible._

"_Don't you want Edward to be happy and fulfilled, Esme?" My mother purred as she inspected her manicure. "Don't you want grandchildren?"_

_Esme looked thoughtful for a moment. After Edward was born, Esme had several miscarriages and finally gave up trying to give birth to another biological child. She once told me that she was pleased to have Kate, Irina, and I so close because we were like the daughters she never had._

"_Of course I want him to be happy, Carmen," Esme answered quietly. "But… I will never presume to know what it is that will make him happy. I trust Edward to make his own decisions. I know that he will find the right person and life for himself one day and until then, I'll just have to be patient."_

_I thought that I could be that person. I thought about supporting Edward, giving him children, giving Esme grandchildren. I thought I could be the missing piece of the puzzle._

"_Well…" My mother inhaled deeply and glanced around the table, eyebrows raised. "I hope you're right. Tanya don't forget about your Italy trip in November. You need to watch what you eat."_

I exhale deeply as I sink into the warm, scented water. The sensation is delicious and I realize that Edward has chosen my Enya Playlist from my iPod in the docking station.

_Aaahhh…_

Edward removes his shirt so he doesn't get it wet. Then there is the extra-added benefit for me of being allowed to see and feel his skin with no hindrance.

"To what do I owe this honor, Mr. Cullen?" I ask quietly, looking up at him as he drops the shirt to the floor and pulls a towel from the shelf.

"Pssh," he waves his hand in dismissal as he kneels on the fluffy towel, beside the tub. "Everybody deserves a little pampering. Especially when you're carrying an _extra_ body."

He is ignoring that what puzzles me most about this act is the intimacy, the sensuality. We haven't been like this with each other in years.

He reaches across my body to take the loofah in one hand and my new favorite L'Occitane wash in the other. The wash is lightly scented, which is wonderful because so many scents make me a woozy these days.

Edward squeezes an ample amount of the cleanser onto the loofah, lathers it and begins to pleasantly wash my arms and my legs. He concentrates on my feet, but with very light pressure and mostly just using his hands and fingers, stroking and soaping my toes.

_Oh my…_

"Seriously, Edward." I breathe. "Not that I'm complaining... but, what brought this on?"

A slight grin lights his face as he trails his fingers back up my calves and thighs, sending shivers of desire throughout my body.

"You know I want the best for you," he murmurs and looks deep into my eyes as his fingers lazily graze my breasts and my collarbone, making me moan in pleasure. "And you need this."

I _have_ been lonely. I've needed this, needed _him_.

"I want to give this to you," he whispers. "Let me give this to you."

Leaning forward, he kisses my forehead as his left hand cups the back of my neck and his right hand travels down and down until…

"Uhn…" I groan as his fingers stroke my labia and I automatically grasp his wrist in my two hands.

His lips voyage down the side of my cheek and my jaw. He places wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck and collarbone as his left hand continues to open and close, massaging my neck.

And his right hand…

"Edward…" I whine and moan and his fingers explore my most sensitive spot.

I'm still holding onto his wrist with one of my hands, but now I've brought a wet and soapy hand up to his hair as he kisses me.

He strokes me gently, softly, fingers lightly probing and I'm on fire and flying. His thumb presses down on my clit as he slides one finger into me and I burst apart around him.

As I come down, I wonder if he's been lonely, too.

"I love you," I whisper with tears in my eyes and I wonder if he'll let me make him feel good.

"I know," he whispers back to me and runs his lips across my jaw. "Let's look out for each other. Take care of each other."

"That's what –" I start to run my hand down his bare chest, but he stops my lips from moving with two wet fingers and my hand with his other hand.

"I just need for you to be okay, Sug," his fingers brush my cheeks and jaw. "That's all I need."

He never asks for anything. He never expects anything from me. He just gives, never taking anything in return. If all he wants is to make me happy, then I'll let him make me happy.

I relax into my bath as Edward stands to move the chair from in front of the vanity to sit behind the tub at my back and rub my shoulders.

He is my savior, my knight, my protector.

Edward's Birthday Party

"Where's Eddie off to?" Irina slurs and weaves like the coarse drunk that she is, husband number three groping her shamelessly and openly without a second thought of propriety.

"I told you," I mumble, glancing about the party desperately searching for less loutish company. "He has business in Forks."

"That's right," she mock gasps. "He finally grew some balls and decided to leave you!"

My sister has always been jealous that I was the one to land Edward. But she's not the only one. Half the women at this party look at me with green-eyed envy, the other half look at me with pity.

It's silly, really. Edward and I have come to a point in our relationship where we will always care for each other, but it just… doesn't fit. I will always love him, but I can't live with him and the lie. This separation is a mutual decision.

I glare at Irina and then roll my eyes before composing myself enough to face my other guests.

"Tanya, you've outdone yourself, love," Benjamin catches my attention and leans toward me to kiss my cheek. "Edward must be so pleased… Where is he, anyway? Tia and I have to be leaving soon and we'd like to say goodbye."

_He's gone to salvage his life - away from me and my selfish plan to ensnare him._

"Thanks so much, Benjamin," I smile, force as much cheer into my voice as possible, and return his affection in earnest. "I'll pass along your well wishes to Edward. He had to leave for a business trip."

"Oh," Tia pouts. "Well, I'm sure you and Delia will have to visit us soon then, being here all alone."

_I won't be alone, Tia. I'll have Allejandro to keep me company._

"Of course," I hug and kiss some more. "I'll call you next week."

I continue to mingle, not drinking my caiparinha, and wonder how Edward's flight is going. I always miss him when he's not around, but I know our relationship is unhealthy and I've been so unfair to him.

I also know that he's spending the night in Denver with James Ashton's widow, and that makes me feel a little less guilty for allowing Allejandro to finger me in the cabana this afternoon.

"Looks like the party's dying down," I hear Kate's wry voice behind me, and I turn to see the look of understanding on her face as she inhales deeply from her Parliament.

"Thank god…" I sigh and snatch the cigarette from her fingers for a quick drag.

No one, not even Edward, knows that I smoke, except for Kate. She chuckles huskily at my clandestine act before I thrust the thing back into her hand.

"Edward left?" She cranes her neck and glances about.

Kate knows my history with, and confused feelings for, Edward. She knows that Edward left tonight and that he isn't coming back. She also knows that I've been sleeping with the pool boy for months.

"Edward left," I confirm with a nod and a smirk. "He's 'laying over' in Denver tonight with Victoria Ashton."

Kate exhales a cloud of smoke and cackles at my pathetic play on words, tossing her cigarette to the ground to step on it with the toe of her sandal.

"He better watch his back," Kate drawls before taking a mouthful of Cabernet. "I heard that once she digs in, she, uh… has a hard time letting go."

"Edward can handle himself," I reply deprecatingly and take a sip of my virtually untouched rum drink. "I taught him well."

"Oh, stop," Kate chastises me. "Edward is a big boy. If he didn't want to marry you, he shouldn't have proposed."

"Kate," I sigh and look up into the night sky. "Is it not possible that I could've used my feminine wiles to… persuade him? I absolutely knew that Edward would come to my aid if he thought I needed him. It's not as if it was ever a secret to anyone that Edward is loyal, family-oriented and eager to please."

She eyes me carefully as I take another swallow of my drink, and then another.

"Do you want me to wag my finger at you and tell you that you acted rashly?" Kate asks. "You did, and I can. But you couldn't have known what would happen. The coming months are going to be hard, I suspect. But if it's guilt you're looking for, I'm not your woman. All you'll get from me is my support. And my respect."

I blink slowly once, twice. I look back into Kate's wide blue eyes. I have been so lucky to have her as my sister.

"What about Delia, Kate?" I look down at my feet and lean back into a pillar. "How do we tell her that Edward isn't –"

"Never tell Delia that Edward isn't her father," Kate lowers her voice and looks around to be sure that no one is listening. "She doesn't need to know."

I must be drunk because what she's said to me makes perfect sense. Delia is just a little girl. She doesn't need to know that the giving, kind, loving man she looks up to, who cherishes her so powerfully, is just a guy I duped into marrying me.

She doesn't need to know that her mommy intentionally quit taking her Yasmin three months before going on a trip with her daddy and then "forgot" to use any other form of birth control while whoring around the Southern Italian countryside.

I cease to discuss Delia or Edward and my conversation with Kate dwindles. Kate kisses me goodnight and promises to call me tomorrow. I bid her and my remaining guests farewell.

After leaving instruction with my staff regarding cleanup, I make my way to my room. I wash my face and brush my teeth. I wrap my hair up on my head. I pull my silk pajamas from my bureau drawer and settle in with a book.

It's a ridiculous book, one of those romance novels that my mother is always reading. I started reading them about two years ago, when I realized that Edward didn't love me at all.

_You are so sad, Denali._

I decide that the book isn't helping, so I swallow two little, blue pills and turn out the lights. I try to imagine my life without Edward. I'll have Delia, but no real companionship. Allejandro doesn't count; he is only twenty years old, he has his whole life ahead of him. I'm not in love with him anyway.

I sigh and close my eyes and drift into a dreamless state without thought or expectation. I simply sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

It's Tuesday night, and it's Peter and Garrett's anniversary. I'm sitting at the J-Bar with Rose and the Gay Mafia celebrating 15-years of love and courage. Ironically, I am approximately five days away from becoming an official Forks divorcée.

Peter and Garrett were high school sweethearts, if you can imagine. I swear a more unlikely story has never been told. Their relationship is what legend is made of; the intensity, the spark, the constant pull. Not that it's ever gonna happen for me, but I've decided if I can't have what they have, then I refuse to clean up whiskers from the bathroom sink.

Ten years ago they evacuated homo-hostile Kentucky and rejuvenated the Forks social scene. After opening an internet café, selling his hand-knit innovations at the local farmer's market, and being generally charming, fun, and fabulous, Peter ran for city council and won by a landslide.

"Pete," Rose snaps her fingers and calls from my right side. "Do you want another Newcastle?"

"Yes, dear," Peter drawls, arching a brow and pursing his lips in my direction. "And get _something_ for Miss Izz… she looks like she needs it."

Today sucked beyond the telling of it. Suffice to say, divorce is a drag and not in the fun Cher impersonator kind of way.

I arrived at the party about 45-minutes ago, wedging my way through the door and the crowd of locals. I passed a few people I didn't recognize and found Rose chatting with Eric by the bar. I wearily grabbed a club soda, waving off Rose's keen observation of me looking like dog shit and we made our way to Peter's table.

"I am here to celebrate life and friends," I tell Peter, and then ask Rose to get me a whiskey and soda. "Fuck my existential crisis bullshit. I'mma burn the house down, yo!"

"That's the spirit!" Eric chirps and hops up to order six shots of Drambuie, which I hate, so he amends his order to five.

When Eric and Rosalie return with our drinks, I raise my glass to Peter and Garrett.

"To my heroes," I announce proudly. "You're an inspiration to us all, and I love you both."

We all clink glasses then kiss, and I ask Chad to get his music set up. Rose and I planned an impromptu dance party here tonight, because we thought Peter and Garrett would appreciate some city club infusion in this small town tavern.

"Umm…" Eric hums and closes our circle, arching a perfectly manicured brow as he leans across our table. "Who invited the straights?"

I glance around the room and spy the three beautiful strangers who are causing a stir. The woman is sprite-like, her outfit sending up a flag that reads "tourist" or "freshman". She's sitting on a banquette, clearly enjoying the atmosphere with a couple of dudes who I assume are Abercrombie & Fitch models.

"Eric," Peter smacks his hand. "Stop being such an pseudo-elitist bitch. This isn't a private party. Besides, my money says the boy with his back to us plays for our team... at least _part_ of the time."

They giggle and continue to surmise whether said boi is a top or a bottom, and I sip my whiskey, enjoying the easy camaraderie of our group. Chad kicks off the party by congratulating the happy couple and dedicating the first song to "all the single ladies".

EPOV

"J-Bar's cool," Jasper declares distractedly on the other end of the line as we discuss where to eat and have a few beers.

I can hear Alice's excited voice tinkling in the background. Although Alice and Jasper are not completely unfamiliar with the town, they haven't been out much since moving here three months ago. Alice is eager to meet new people.

"Cool," I answer. "It's just down the hill for me, and I've been wanting to check out the property informally before our meetings next week."

"Great," Jasper agrees. "Meet you there in twenty? Alice and I will just walk over – nice thing about small town livin'."

The home in which Alice and Jasper live is situated in a beautiful and centrally located neighborhood. The property has been in the Whitlock family since Forks was settled. Jasper's parents left town about ten years ago, maintaining the home as a vacation rental. Since Alice and Jasper decided to raise a family, they agreed to do it here, reaping the benefits of the impressive education system and life in a small mountain town.

"Twenty minutes," I concur and look into the full-length mirror in the dressing room of my recently purchased spec home on Red Mountain. "See you then."

I end the call and toss my iPhone to the bench behind me. I decide that I should change, since I look like I'm ready for the boardroom and not a barroom.

I loosen my tie and rummage through the clothing my housekeeper has meticulously organized by occasion and color before selecting a short- sleeved blue button down to swap for the gray Pronto Uomo and a pair of loose, casual black pants. The pants have these confusing suspenders attached to them, but they're comfortable and casual, and I like them.

I'm pulling on my black Docs when my phone chimes. I look at it and see that I have a text from Tanya.

_Delia misses you! Hope all is well. xxxo – T_

Delia misses me, and I miss her. Terribly. This is the longest I've ever been away from her.

_All is well, love. Tell Delia that Daddy misses her and loves her, and I'll see you in a few weeks._

I climb into the Audi and coast down Red Mountain Road to meet Alice and Jasper. I park on a residential street near their house and walk the few blocks to meet them.

When I enter the bar, I spot them immediately on a bench along the wall. Alice is bouncing animatedly in her seat. I greet them both and order a whiskey from our prompt and flirtatious server, who immediately informs me that her name is Pam and that it would be her pleasure to get anything for the me that I require.

"So," I exhale as I ignore the longing expression on Pam's overly tanned face and settle into my chair across from Alice and Jasper. "What's the what?"

Alice giggles and fills me in on the gossip thus far. She loves to people watch and evidently Forks provides a person with her predilection several prime entertainment opportunities.

"And that guy over there?" She points to a tall, scruffy, older gentleman in a tan corduroy sport coat that looks like it was unearthed from a 1974 time capsule. "…is Hugh Hefner's brother."

I grin at Alice's trademark zeal as our server places my drink in front of me, brushing my forearm with her fingertips before asking if we're planning to order food.

"I am," I shrug and peer at Alice and Jasper who also agree to order, and we each choose pub-inspired gourmet dishes, beginning with truffle fries.

"Excellent choices," Pam purrs and wiggles her way back to the bar.

"She's hot for ya, Cullen," Jasper chuckles and shifts in his seat, draping an arm around Alice's slight shoulders.

"I'll pass," I roll my eyes and nip at my whiskey.

"So, Edward," Alice zeroes in – the evil little gnome. "What would it take for you to _not_ pass?"

"I don't know Alice," I lazily twirl my swizzle stick in my drink and tilt my head, staring into the brown liquid and pursing my lips. "But I'm sure you're about to tell me."

Alice possesses an uncanny sixth sense that I will never understand. She "just knows" so many things. I've learned never to bet against Alice.

"I'm going to dance," Alice declares and stands up, striding toward the beat of the drums.

"I Want Candy," Jasper mumbles dreamily as he watches Alice shimmy to the unofficial dance floor in the corner of the bar. "Bow Wow Wow. They were the Ants, ya know? Adam and the Ants?"

BPOV

"I know a guy who's tough but sweet!" Rose, Garrett, and I are all shouting along with the song and jumping up and down like total fucking dweebs. "He's so fine he can't be be-eat!"

I see the latest addition to our little town shaking her way over to us with an enormous grin on her face. So help me, she looks angelic and demonic at the same fucking time, and I think I love her for it.

"He's got everything that I desire!" The little brownie has now joined the lunatic fringe as we bounce and sing. "Sets the summer sun on fi-ya!"

"Alice!" She juts her hand out toward me, announcing her name, while everyone around us yells 'I WANT CANDY' at the tops of their lungs.

"Bella!" I point to my chest, and then thumb toward Rose and Garrett. "And that's Rosalie and Garrett… It's his anniversary!"

Alice smiles and nods, like she already knows what I've told her. She's either in possession of supernatural abilities or a spy for some entity whose agenda is to case gay dance parties.

We continue to dance and the song changes to Candyman by Christina Aguilera in Chad's attempt at being clever with the segue or some shit. Whatever. I'm having a blast, and Alice is fitting right in.

Peter pops over to us with a bunch of bottles of water, bumping and grinding with Garrett in some kind of Dirty Dancing version of the Jitterbug.

"Water?" I offer Alice a bottle of Fiji and she accepts with a giant grin.

"Thanks!" She twists off the cap and sips on the cool water as we tell each other a little more about ourselves.

Eventually, the song switches to You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse.

"Dude," I say to no one in particular as we all slow down to gulp water and weave drunkenly as we chat. "I fucking dig Wino. I don't care what she does in her real life, ya know? I just like singing along with her songs."

Alice nods her head and gestures to her table, "You should have this conversation with my husband."

I glance in the direction of her table and realize the two men she was sitting with earlier are watching us in amusement. The guy who had his back to us is is now facing us, and I see that he is fucking beautiful. Like I have no other words to describe him besides "fucking" and "beautiful".

"Mine's the blond," she grins and confides. "Jasper."

I'm relieved to learn that I'm not ogling my new friend's husband. Also, I hope that her questionably gay companion feels like it's Girls Night.

"Jasper LOVES her," Alice beams. "He's a musician. Kind of. I mean, not professionally, he's actually a real estate contractor. He and Edward - the other guy sitting at the table? - had a punk band in college."

_Punk band? Please, be let it be Girls Night. Please?_

I don't know where the hell my inner thoughts are coming from or taking me, because honestly I'm not usually a big horny slut hoping for possibly bisexual punk rockers to sweep me off my feet.

Hung Up by Madonna blasts over the speakers. I roll my eyes, because I'm kind of sick of Madge, but hey, it's fun to dance to. So I chug my water and proceed to get my groove on.

Suddenly, Possibly Bisexual Punk Rocker and Alice's hot husband materialize by our sides, and they appear to be dancing. Much better than any of us, I might add.

Just as suddenly, Rose announces that she's tired and heading home.

"What?" My attention is momentarily drawn from PBiPR as I frown, because Rose never leaves a party before I do. "Dude, I thought we were gonna rock and roll all night. Paul Stanley would be sooo disappointed."

Alice and the hotties guffaw, as do Peter and Garrett, while Eric scoffs and rolls his eyes mumbling about "the straights" again.

"I know, I know," she stammers and fumbles for her keys and her phone, kissing and bidding everyone TTFN. "I just have a lot of shit to do tomorrow, ya know, with the benefit this weekend? And I'm getting tired…"

I arch a brow, giving her a look that says 'I know exactly what shit we have to do to prepare for this event' and she gives me a look of… apology? Rose?

"No worries, B," she kisses my cheek and gives me a one armed hug. "I'm good. Be safe tonight... I'll call you in the morning."

"Call me when you _get home_," I glare at her because something is definitely up with her and her "be safe" crap.

This is a town of 6,000. Crime is limited to white collar and women shoving their rich husbands off of buildings. There aren't a lot of random acts of violence. Aside from Leah Clearwater wanting to marry my soon-to-be ex, there isn't anyone plotting to ruin my life, and I'm pretty sure that Leah and Jake are downvalley this week.

"I'll do that," Rose tosses over her shoulder as she zigzags through the people and tables, making her way out the door.

"Ding Dong the Witch is dead," Derek, who recently joined our little soiree, sneers attempting to usurp the mantle of vicious bitch from Eric. "Let's sit. It's not like any of you people are auditioning for Dancing with the Stars."

EPOV

"Her name is Bella," Alice is on tiptoes as she whispers in my ear, looking directly at the target of my attention.

I've been staring at this girl since she walked in the door. She is mouth-watering, chocolate and cherries. Her long, natural hair looks so soft and she's casually dressed in jeans and a black graphic t-shirt.

Then I notice her shoes.

On her feet, she's wearing what Kate would refer to as, Fuck Me Pumps.

_Fuck Me is right._

They're glistening red, like rubies, and her toes are barely showing out the tops. I think briefly that I'd like to fuck her while she wears them. Then I remember that I just now learned her name, second-hand, and telling her that I want to fuck her with her shoes on may not be the best way to win a new friend.

"Alice," I smirk down at the meddling wife of my dear friend, wanting simultaneously to hug her and strangle her. "I'm still married, you know this."

"Didn't stop you from spending the night with the Widow Ashton now did it?" Alice turns her back and cozies up to Jasper.

No, it did not. But I'm done with that shit. I am sick to death of meaningless fucks, fake tits, and love games. I would just like, for once in my life, to meet a woman without an agenda regarding my cock and/or my bank account.

I roll my eyes and accept a bottle of water from the hefty guy, who seems to be the center of attention tonight. He introduces himself as Peter and points to another man named Garrett, with whom he is celebrating 15-years of commitment.

"He's not legally my husband… _yet_," Peter confesses. "But who knows? Maybe we'll make a pilgrimage to the quaint, little state of Iowa for our nuptials."

"Congratulations," I toast him with my water bottle and realize that it's bad luck, asking Pam for a round of Patron. "Fifteen years is a long time, man. That's very commendable."

Peter glances at my left hand. He smirks and mumbles something about insubstantial proof of not being a friend of Dorothy as Pam quickly doles out our shots around the table.

_Yes, Peter. While you've been building a life with your soulmate, I've been pretending to be married to mine and fucking shallow, heartless gold diggers on the side._

I see Bella hugging a tall blond woman, who seems nervous and vaguely familiar, and Peter wanders over to say goodbye to the woman as well. I catch a final glimpse of her and hear her voice, and it strikes me in the gut.

Rosalie Hale.

"Let's sit," a voice jolts me out of my reverie. "It's not like any of you people are auditioning for Dancing with the Stars."

I hold up my shot glass and tell my new friend, Peter, and his husband that I wish them another 15-plus-years of happiness and we all down our shots.

Peter teases Bella and smacks her on the ass, causing her to lose her balance and trip over a chair. I have to stifle my laughter at how fucking cute she is and how surprised I am when she blushes.

I was watching her earlier and although she is most definitely sexy, she doesn't prance around the dance floor in an act of seduction like so many women and girls at nightclubs and bars. She's bare, confident and her exuberance is captivating.

As I take a seat and watch Bella sink into the chair across from me, I wonder how I can make sure she knows I'm available and interested without looking like a presumptuous tool. I could enlist Alice, but that would give her far too much satisfaction, and I'm not that nice of a guy.

Bella and I momentarily make eye contact before Eric plops down next to me to introduce himself and ask my name. I'm not trying to be a prick, but I'd rather be getting acquainted with Bella.

"So... what brings you to Forks, Mr. Cullen?" Eric sips on something green in a martini glass as Pam sets yet another whiskey in front of me.

I think she's trying to impair my better judgment.

"I'm a real estate lawyer," I answer, sipping the drink I didn't order, but will gladly consume. "A lot of folks are redeveloping and investing in property in Forks."

"Ah," Eric nods his head and runs a finger around the rim of his glass. "Forks is one of the few places real estate is worth anything these days."

I nod my head in agreement.

"You're married," Eric cuts to the chase, pointing at my ring. "Where's the wife tonight?"

Bella's phone vibrates on the table and she snatches it up, answering the call.

"Separated," I correct Mrs. Kravitz, realizing this may be my chance to ensure that Bella knows what I want her to know. "My wife is in Chicago with our daughter and I'm here… indefinitely."

Bella glances up at Eric and I as she murmurs into the phone.

"Daughter?" Eric raises his eyebrows. "How old is your little girl?"

I smile immediately thinking of Delia, but stifle my innate instinct to whip out the iPhone for a gratuitous slideshow of the most beautiful girl in the world.

_Just the facts._

"She's three," I answer, short and sweet, and bite my lip.

"And how long have you been married?" Eric persists his invasive line of questioning as Bella ends her call. "You don't look old enough to have a three year old daughter."

I narrow my eyes before answering, choosing my words wisely. It occurs to me that Eric must be Forks's gatekeeper. I continue my deposition.

"Just a little over three years," I exhale, reclining into the wooden chair. "And I'm thirty-four."

Eric takes another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. He's sharp, like the rest of his group, and he flies under the radar as a shallow party boy. He'd make a good lawyer.

"What is it that _you_ do, Eric?" I discard the swizzle stick from my drink and wonder why Pam keeps allowing them in there, since she just has to wipe them from my table two minutes after delivering it.

"I'm a wedding planner," Eric motions in Bella's direction, from where she is observing us intently. "I've done some events with Bella and Rosalie… Have you met, by the way?"

_Finally._

"Hello," I reach across the alcohol-cluttered table to shake the hand of the sweet mystery I've been gawking at for over an hour. "I'm Edward Cullen."

"Bella," her hand is small and soft and a little bit cold, but when we make contact I am jolted with a feeling of warmth and intensity. "Swan… Isabella Swan is my name. But… you can call me Bella."

BPOV

_Could I be a bigger spaz?_

He introduces himself like a gentleman, and I act like an unrefined asstard just in from the hills. All from a mother-loving handshake. Seriously?

His hand is big and rough and warm, and I feel a vibration in my arm the second he touches me. All I can think about is the word "sex" in giant, hot pink letters.

Not that I'm an authority on sex. I've had sex with a total of two people in my lifetime. The lights were always off, and I'm pretty sure that neither of my previous partners are able to even pronounce Kama Sutra. Just sayin'.

I mentally make the sign of the cross, praying to retain some air of dignity in this conversation, as I make an even bigger ass of myself in front of Edward Cullen.

"So," I retrieve my hand from his burning grip. "You were in a punk band?"

Edward furrows his brow in confusion for a beat, because I pulled that one out of my ass, before grinning slow and smooth. I think I may have peed a little.

"You've been talking to Alice," he shakes his head and fiddles with an errant swizzle stick that is lying in a small puddle on the table in front of him. "Jasper and I had a band when we were in college."

I overheard part of his conversation with Eric when Rose called, and I hoped I had heard wrong. But alas, there it was mocking me – his wedding band.

"You don't look like the type to be in a punk band," I blurt because he seems a little more GQ than Distorted.

He's stunning, slumped in his chair, rolling that lucky fucking piece of plastic between his forefinger and thumb, smirking at me.

"Big punk fan?" Edward hasn't taken his eyes from mine since we met, and it's freaking my shit out.

In the space of about two minutes I've concluded that he is a gentleman, he screams sex, he's completely unavailable, and that I want him to do dirty things to me with his hands. I am now adding "intense stare" to my quickly growing list of Edward Cullen Traits.

"Not really," I shrug and snap the elastic band I'm wearing like a bracelet, until Edward leans forward and envelops my wrist with his hand.

"What's with the rubber band?" he asks quietly.

_His hand is so fucking warm._

"Oh!" I immediately cease the annoying snapping. "I, uh…"

When I was going through Jacob and my divorce papers today, I pulled the band from a bundle of crap and snapped it around my wrist. I don't know how to explain my behavior to a guy I'd like to not think of me as a scatter-brained girl-child. I don't even _know_ why I do stupid shit like wrap rubber bands around my wrists, leave the office with box cutters in my back pocket, and shove desk pens in my hair.

He raises his brows, purses his lips, and waits for my answer. He's still holding my wrist in his hand, gently caressing it with his thumb. His wedding ring winks at me in the ambient lighting.

"It was bundled around some papers at my office and ended up here," I motion to the rubber band and look away from his penetrating stare, before attempting to toy with the band once more. "I'm kind of an airhead. You should see the office supplies I have piled up next my bed…"

_Did I just invite him to view the area surrounding my bed?_

Edward chuckles lightly, slips his long fingers under the band and rolls it onto his own wrist in one level move. He leans back in his chair, smiling that cocky half-grin that I'm sure rarely leaves his face.

"Why do you say you're an airhead?" He pulls the band from his wrist and shoots it across the table at Jasper without a care.

"Who are you?" I try a detour, because I feel like a rookie, and I don't know how to answer his questions. "My therapist?"

"You don't know your own therapist?" He tilts his head and narrows his eyes in teasing.

"Yes, I know my therapist," I snap and squirm in my seat until I realize that I have now declared myself in need of therapy. "I mean…"

As expected, he smirks. I make that noise you make when you're disgusted with someone or something. Except, I can't decide if it's him or me that I'm disgusted with.

"You are a sneak," I hiss and grip the side of the table. "You just made me admit I have a therapist."

"I'm a lawyer, not a sneak," he asserts as he relaxes further into his chair.

He is so cool as he stretches an arm behind Eric. Eric, that bitch, is laughing.

"Fine line," I taunt like a grade-schooler on the playground.

"Let's be honest, 'making' a person admit that they have a therapist isn't exactly a covert operation these days," Edward asserts.

"I know, right?" Eric snorts and rolls his eyes.

"True," I agree, nodding my head and resenting this bastard for winning Eric over as an ally. "That said, I certainly wouldn't have offered up the information unless you put me on the defense, tricking me into it."

Edward's smirk softens, but his eyes are still like fire, never leaving my gaze except to blink.

"Bella," his voice is kind, not at all teasing. "I never intended to offend you."

"Whatever," I mumble and wave him off, briefly breaking eye contact as I play with my earring.

"I'm going up, kids," Eric announces with a sigh. "Want anything?"

"No, thanks," Edward and I answer in unison.

As Eric makes his way to the bar, Edward's eyes shift back to mine and he inhales through his nose, eyeing me as if I am a rare breed of fish.

EPOV

"Eric tells me you're an event planner," I change gears, testing the waters. "Is your area of specialty weddings, or do you do any kind of event?"

Bella visibly relaxes in her seat, relieved to talk about something less intimate than therapy or her tendency to punish herself with office supplies.

"I do a lot of non-profit work, actually," she answers quickly and easily as the tension between us dissipates. "This weekend I'm producing a benefit dinner for a local organization that provides young people with adult mentors – kind of like Big Brothers, Big Sisters."

She continues to tell me about the various events she's turned out lately and a few that are coming up. She talks excitedly for several minutes about what these organizations have accomplished and what they will be enabled to do with the funds they raise.

I am charmed by her energy and passion. She loves what she does, and I'd bet good money that she's excellent at her job. Eric returns to the table, but I don't notice until he sings Bella's praises.

"Bella," he pointedly sets his drink in front of him and places both palms flat on the table. "Honey, those people could not pull that shit off without you and you know it."

Eric turns to me and Bella rolls her neck, settling her eyes on the wall to her right, tense and embarrassed, fidgeting with her damn earrings again. I watch her as I listen to Eric go on about how in-demand Bella is. He says that every organization, including for-profits, want Bella and Rose to plan and execute their events.

"Your event ain't worth shit if Swan and Hale don't do it for ya," Eric champions. "Stop underselling yourself, Isabella."

Earlier, I flustered her with my teasing. Since then, it has become abundantly clear that she does not enjoy the spotlight. Which is a shame because her apparent talent, beauty, and presence command it.

"Where're Peter and Garrett?" Bella shifts the focus away from her and glances idly around the bar.

"Their bedroom, I assume," Eric shrugs and Bella looks bereft. "Peter tried to tell you goodbye, but you and the lawyer were deep into verbal foreplay."

I've witnessed several emotions cross her face in the short time that I've known her. While I hope to some day learn her full range, mostly I want to take away the loneliness that's seeping out of every pore of her body at this moment.

Eric and Derek talk with a couple of women who wave across the table and exchange niceties with Bella. Bella smiles, promises to call one of the women later that week, and scoots her chair away from the table.

"You aren't leaving, are you?" I stand and start toward her as Eric arches a brow at us over his shoulder.

"I, uh…" She's restless. She wants to get away from here.

"We can go someplace else," I suggest and hold out a hand, beckoning her. "I don't want this to end… not yet."

She doesn't trust me, but she's tempted. She's suspended in motion, chest heaving.

"I promise not to bite," I smile, inching closer to grasp her hand.

_Unless you want me to._

BPOV

I silently take his hand and feel the cold, hard reminder that he is another woman's husband.

_Just have fun, Bella. Nothing has to happen._

We bid a fleeting farewell to all as we make a beeline to the door. By the time we reach the cool night air, I'm giggling and he's grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He stops once we reach the corner to ask where we're going.

"Do you like rum?" I ask, feeling euphoric from Edward's close proximity. "There's a Latin Bistro and Rum Bar just a few blocks up the street and they make the most delicious mango mojitos..."

He's just… staring at me. Smiling. Making me feel exposed, beautiful, and wanted all at once.

Then I realize that we're still holding hands. I feel like a clingy _girl_. I reluctantly attempt to disentangle my fingers from the fingers of Mrs. Cullen's husband. But he shifts his weight and grips my hand more firmly, pulling me closer to him.

"We're still… holding hands," I mumble, looking back into his penetrative stare, as he slowly draws my body flush against his.

He's clasping my hand in his as he brings them to his chest, wrapping his other arm around my waist as if we're about to do the Collegiate Shag. He begins to sway slightly.

"You can have my hand as often and as long as you like, Bella," I smell whiskey and something warm and creamy, like milk and honey with a dash of cinnamon. "And I will go anywhere with you, anytime."

_Maybe just this once…_

"Hey, Bella," an amused and familiar voice shakes me from my dazzlement, and I realize it's my friend Joey.

"Joe," I part from Edward and drop my hand, but stay close to his side. "Hey, where you headed?"

"Zocalito," Joey's eyes roam Edward and my body language, and it's clear that he is definitely amused at the sight before him. But it's not like I've never seen Joey crash his bicycle, laughing like a hyena, trying to get home after too much tequila. "Wanna join?"

"Yeah," I answer, turning my head to gauge Edward's reaction. "Actually, we were just talking about that."

Joey tells me that Mike Newton, the owner of the restaurant, offered him a job bartending, so he wants to have one last night of acting like a drunken douchebag at the bar before he starts working there. Edward's expression is unreadable, but not unpleasant, as he watches Joey and I interact.

"Joey, this is Edward Cullen," I introduce my friend and Edward. "Edward, this is Joey Kelso."

The three of us walk to the bar chatting good-humoredly, which is a bit surprising because Joey's usually an antagonistic prick to any guy who is better looking than he is. Joey seems to be minding his manners. While I am mostly relieved by this turn of events, I am slightly suspicious.

We walk down the narrow stairway to the underground bar, where Mike and Tyler, the bartender, immediately welcome us. We order mango mojitos, because they are divine, and continue our jovial conversation from our walk.

An hour later Edward asks where the toilet is and excuses himself to use it. Joey's face restores its typical mischievous expression, and he starts giggling like a little girl.

"What?" I ask, ready to knock the little fucker off his barstool. "Dude, if you're laughing at me, I'm gonna…"

"You're gonna what, Bella?" Joey mocks in his thick Jersey accent. "Oooh… I'm so scared. Big bad Bella's mad at me! Help, Mike! Save me!"

He cracks himself and everybody else up, and I smack him on the shoulder. Tyler sets a glass of water in front of me and shakes his head as he wanders to the other end of the bar.

"Just tell me what's so fucking funny, assface." I roll my eyes and laugh. He's such a goober.

"Dude," Joey struggles for breath. "You're like, 'Oh Emm Gee! Edward is soooo dreamy!' I've never seen you like that before, that's all. It's cute."

His laughter dies down as Edward returns, but judging by the look on Edward's face, I'm guessing he heard at least part of Joey's comedy routine.

Joey finishes his drink, shakes Edward's hand, kisses my cheek, tells Mike to go fuck himself, and vanishes up the stairs in a flurry of laughter.

"He's an interesting character," Edward chuckles.

"Yeah," I roll my eyes and laugh. "Joey's great. He's a lot of fun, but he can be a real pain in the ass when he wants to be."

"I really, really believe that," Edward says before catching my eye in a searing gaze for the first time since Joey's presence broke our reverie on the street corner outside J-Bar.

"Want anything else, B?" Tyler asks as he wipes down the bar.

I look at Edward. His chin is resting on his fist and he's smiling at me. Staring. Waiting.

_Take it, Bella. Just take a chance…_

Without taking my eyes from Edward's I shake my head and ask Tyler for the check.

As we make the trek back up the claustrophobia-inducing stairwell, I can feel his eyes tracing patterns over the back of my body, and I make a choice that I know I will regret in the morning.

"Come upstairs with me."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Kassiah.**

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

BPOV

"Come upstairs with me," I breathe as Edward and I face each other in the cobblestone alley outside the restaurant and below my apartment. "I… don't want this to end yet."

The air around us crackles and sparks, and I almost laugh. I don't laugh though, because Edward's eyes light with satisfaction when I use his words from earlier tonight.

_Wasn't Rose just making fun of my ass for believing in this shit?_

He approaches me slowly, running his index finger down the length of the exposed skin of my arm. Clichéd little goose bumps pop up along the way.

_He's married, Bella._

"This way," my voice is barely above a whisper as I turn to lead him to the gallows.

I can see him out of my peripheral vision, and he seems so relaxed, like he does this kind of thing all the time.

I feel like I ran a 10K by the time we reach the last landing of my stairwell – my heart is pounding and my body is heated. I have no fucking clue why I'm willing to do things with and for this man that would normally never even occur to me. I do not understand this pull, this intense need.

Before we ascend the last flight of stairs, Edward takes hold of my elbow, spinning me slowly. He looks dangerous as he pushes me back against the railing. His fingers travel up until they are stroking my neck, my jaw, and then my lips.

_Ung._

Fingers on my lips, inside, over my teeth...

I open my mouth, and I've never been touched like this before. He anchors himself with his fingers in my mouth and his other hand on the railing behind me as he pulls in close.

"Bella," Edward breathes along my jawline, my cheeks, the bridge of my nose, my forehead.

He inhales deeply at my hairline, then makes his way down the other side of my face. I'm gripping the railing behind me as he slowly pulls his wet fingers from my mouth, trailing moisture down my throat.

Then he's kissing me. His hands are in my hair, and I need him to be closer. I want him closer. I unbutton his shirt, popping a few of his buttons in my mad dash to get him naked, and I toss the offending garment to the wind.

I remember where we are then - on the balcony leading to my apartment. In plain sight of five other apartments. I decide I'd rather my neighbors weren't privy to this little indiscretion, so I tell Edward we need to keep moving.

When we enter my studio, I pull Edward into a kiss that ignites a 40-minute fuck session on the parquet floor. My hands are in his gorgeous, fucked-up hair, and he's laughing against my lips as I bite and nip at his grinning mouth.

"Hold on, love." He's still laughing and fumbling with the doorknob, trying to secure the door so we don't give the neighbors a FREE! LIVE! SEX! show.

I hike myself up using his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist, landing us against the wall near my makeshift Targét Boutique closet.

I'm giggling like a teenage girl, and I think it's possible that I may have had one too many adult beverages this evening. I've never done anything like this in my life, let alone with a stranger.

_He smells so yummy._

I let out something that sounds like a squeal when he spins us around so my ass is against the wall, and he pulls my Zombie Bar t-shirt over my head.

I don't laugh easily with strangers, but now I'm tittering my fucking ass off in wild abandon with some dude I just met four hours ago. Rosalie would be so disappointed.

"I wanna taste you," Edward growls into my ear as he unbuttons, unzips and yanks at my grey denim pants.

"How do you feel about that?" he asks with a grin and a lick to my neck.

"I feel pretty fuckin' good about that," I arch my neck for him.

He drops me to my feet, steadies me with one hand and continues to nudge my jeans down my thighs. Baring my skin to his touch, he sinks to his knees.

"Lift up," he pulls at the back of my right thigh and I feel the scrape of the golden band that taunts me.

_He belongs to someone else._

One at a time, I lift my feet out of the legs of my pants, slipping my ruby, red peep-toe pumps off along the way. As I stand in my tiny studio apartment, barefoot in a shiny pink thong and bra set, I acknowledge to myself that I am about to have sex with a married man.

I never thought that I'd be "that girl". I've always considered myself to be a moral person. Before Jake and I split, I would _never_ have considered being with someone else.

_It'll just be this one time, Bella. No one has to know. _

Edward sits back on his haunches and looks up at me with a small smile. He's slack jawed, eyes narrowed. He looks like he's about to say something incredibly amusing or insightful, as he caresses the backs of my thighs.

EPOV

I don't think I've ever wanted so badly to fuck anyone in my life. I feel intellectually challenged by Bella. I'm intrigued by her behavior, her reactions to me, and the fact that she is genuinely without any motive other than to be with _me_.

But also… Bella smells like something to eat. She's wild and sensuous, and she's making some of most cock-hardening sounds I have ever heard as I lick her neck, savoring her taste. Her husky little voice vibrates in my ears.

_So hot._

She agreed to leave the bar with me, confirming my assessment that she heard me tell Eric that I was separated. Since we left J-Bar, she's been eager, flirtatious, and much more easy going than she was during our tense beginning conversation.

Her friends treat her like she's the kid sister. I didn't get the impression from any of the men I met tonight that she is or has been dating any of them. I find that peculiar, since she is clearly admired and a total fucking knockout.

When I kneel in front of her, I never want to stand up again. Her mahogany hair is riotous around her heart-shaped face, and her big doe eyes are staring down at me with legitimate craving.

Reluctantly, I slip off her shoes, making a mental note to ask her to don them at a later point in time, and toss them aside with her jeans. Her t-shirt is long gone. She stands before me in a pink thong and bra set.

I don't usually like thongs - I think they're kind of trashy - but Bella could wear the raunchiest Frederick's of Hollywood get-up and still manage to look like an angel.

I sit back on my haunches and stroke her pretty legs as she shivers lightly.

_Is she nervous? Cold?_

"Cold?" I ask, concerned that she's having second thoughts.

"No," her throaty voice is timid and shaky. "I've just… never really done anything like this before."

_And there it is_.

"Bella," I sit up on my knees and take her wrists in my hands. "If you want to stop, we'll stop... Whatever you want."

I can make her scream my name until she doesn't remember her own. But I need her to tell me her boundaries – what she wants, what she doesn't want.

"No," she vehemently shakes her head and shifts her weight, but she doesn't look me in the eye. "I don't want that."

"Okay," I agree as I turn her face to mine again.

No matter what she says, I'm not going any further until I know she's in this with me.

BPOV

After shouting like some kind of desperate freak for him not to stop, I lean back against the wall and try to play it cool. I just want one night, one time to feel this good.

_Please... Just give me this one night._

"I need you to be honest with me," he murmurs from his knees as he holds my chin in his long fingers. "Tell me what you want… What you _don't_ want…"

His gaze is so forceful I want to look away, but he won't let me.

"Deal?" He raises his eyebrows in question.

"Of course," I scoff. "I'm always honest."

No one has ever questioned my integrity. If Edward weren't so fuckawesome with his hands and teeth, I'd tell him to get bent.

Fingers sizzling across my body, my breasts and my thighs…

He moves the cup of my bra to the side, and without breaking eye contact he licks and captures one puckered nipple between his lips.

"Mmm…" he closes his eyes and moans in pleasure, and I wonder how he can be so passionate about a nipple.

Then he bites and swirls his tongue around and around, and I begin to understand how he can be so passionate about a nipple.

Edward rolls the wet, exposed peak between his finger and his thumb, focusing his oral skills on my other nipple under the thin satin of my Victoria's Secret balconette.

Licking down my body, tracing my waist and my ribcage, light touches of his gloriously callused fingers…

I feel a sudden, sharp tug at the ring in my belly button, and I gasp. He grins up at me and releases the ring with a sound of scraping metal to continue his journey down my body.

Edward grasps my hip, and with his other hand he is creating some kind of pattern on the front of my thong that is fucking mesmerizing.

"Bella?" he asks, cool and casual.

"Hm?" I look down at him in his wife beater and pants with his big, black booted feet sprawled out behind him.

He tilts his head and purses his lips as he asks, "Will you let me use my fingers to make you come?"

_Oh God…_

"Umm…" I just don't know what the hell I'm supposed to say to that.

I've got the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my entire life on his knees in front of me, asking if he can "make me come" with the most beautiful fingers I've ever seen in my entire life.

Like I'm gonna say "no".

"Yeah," I sound like an idiot.

"Good girl," he smiles and grazes my hip with his teeth.

Hot breath on my skin, fingers working inside my panties and between my lips…

"Ho-holy fuuuck…" I exhale, rising up onto my toes, clenching my thighs and scraping my fingernails against the dry wall behind me.

He doesn't look up at me as his hand automatically shoots to my knee, pushing my legs back open. He starts to nuzzle the insides of my thighs, licking my skin and laughing into my hips. His finger strokes up and down my slick entrance, weakening my knees.

Before I can slide down the wall to my ass, Edward pulls my leg over his shoulder and pushes the damp fabric aside. I feel more stable this way, but also more exposed. Licking long and slow from bottom to top, he takes my clit between his lips as he eases one long slender finger into me.

"Ung," I am waaaay beyond poised. I'm fucking muttering nonsense.

One finger, then two, slow and steady...

He sucks hard on my clit, curls his fingers, and scratches that itch. A fire ignites in my thighs and flashes across my hips, into my groin and smolders in my abdomen.

Edward's tongue is in me, and he's slowly moving over my clit with his finger and thumb when I come. I feel as loud as the fireworks that shoot over the mountain on New Year's Eve and the 4th of July.

_Nice, Bella. Real ladylike._

He grips my thigh from behind and removes it from his shoulder as he stands. He settles my leg over his hip as he opens his pants and rifles through his back pocket.

"Bella," Edward looks me in the eye as he rips open a condom package with his teeth.

"I want to fuck you," he looks down to roll the condom onto his hard cock.

I am stunned by his candor. This moment is surreal. I simply stare at him as his eyes turn back to meet mine.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He tilts his head to get a better view of what I am certain is an expression of astonishment on my face as he languidly strokes his cock.

His lips are full and moist. I lick my lips and nod my head.

_Yes..._

"Hell, yes." I manage to utter words that make some kind of sense, no matter how crude, as I wonder what the hell I've gotten myself into.

Dude has managed to make me second-guess myself, several times, and then orgasm like my head might pop off. He doesn't seem to be slowing down at all, either. If I wasn't so fucking turned on, I might run screaming from my apartment.

Regardless of my warring emotions, I wrap my arms around his neck as he smiles that luscious, crooked grin before ripping my thong with a solid yank.

_Well, let's mark that one up as another first._

EPOV

When I ask Bella if I can finger her, she hesitates and fidgets as I sit on my knees in front of her, scaring her and turning her on. I haven't been with a girl this sweet since I was seventeen. I'm having the time of my life and I'm just getting warmed up.

She's wound up tight. I upset her when I asked her to be honest with me. She's no liar, but she isn't one to ask for what she wants either, and I want her to enjoy every minute of this.

Bella doesn't cease to surprise me. She moans, "Jesus Fucking Christ", out loud, when I make her come the first time. I want to make her come again, but first I need her consent.

I look into her dazed eyes as I tear open the condom wrapper and roll it onto my painfully hard cock. I tell her I want to fuck her. I want her to know exactly what I want. I don't want her to hide from what's happening between us.

She nods her head, smirks and says, "Hell, yes."

_Hell, yes. Stay with me, baby, and I will make this so good for you._

I rip her thong, like I've wanted to for the past twenty minutes, and brace her up against the wall. I kiss her on the mouth, and when I pull back she licks her lips, tasting herself and grinning.

_Dirty, dirty girl…_

"You better hold on tight," I whisper against her neck and push inside her slowly.

_Jesus. Fucking. Christ._

I have to think about chapped lips and my Great-Aunt Maggie's orthopedic shoes to keep a slow and steady pace instead of pounding into her. She's wet and tight, like she hasn't had sex in… ever. Her husky, breathy moans are knocking me out.

I bite her neck and slide her bra strap down her arm for full access to the mouth-watering skin of her shoulder. She pulls at my shirt, scrapes her nails across my skin, and then buries her fingers in my hair.

I need to give her control or I'm going to lose it. I kick off my boots and get my pants the rest of the way off before lowering us to the floor, lying down with Bella straddling me.

BPOV

Edward settles us on the floor and lies on his back, never leaving my body. I situate myself on top of him and look down into his burning green eyes as I reach around to unhook my bra, tossing it somewhere in the dimly lit room.

He palms my breasts and looks like he'll devour me. If he tried, I'd let him.

I lean forward. He licks and bites my ear, my neck, and my collarbone with his gleaming, white teeth. I bunch up his thin under shirt in my hands and pull it over his head. I want his skin completely bare.

Resting my hands on his chest, curling my fingers in his hair, I sit upright to ride him.

His hands frame my hips and glide me up and down his shaft. I am so full of him. I don't think I've ever been this full. The tension I feel is delicious and thick.

The friction is… _splendid_.

I still cannot believe what I'm doing, but it feels so natural to be with him like this. We fit. Everything fits. If I believed in that "soulmate" shit, I would say that he is mine.

But he's not. He's married to someone else and he has a _daughter_ and… I can't think about that right now.

Edward rolls me onto my back and pulls my legs up over his shoulders. His rough fingers scrape my calves and my thighs.

"I don't wanna come yet," his voice is like gravel in my ear. "I'm gonna fuck you into the floor."

He's saying things that no one has ever said to me before. He's telling me what he's doing to me, what he wants to do to me.

_God, it's so hard, so intense._

_This_ is what I want. This is what I've _always_ wanted. This is what I _need_.

One leg slips to the floor. He straddles it, pivots, staying inside me. He kisses and nips at my ankle and calf. He wets a finger with his saliva and runs it down the crack of my ass.

_Does he want anal sex? I've never had anal sex. Well, there was that time when Jacob accidentally slipped, but that's another story._

Edward pulls out of me, gently placing my leg to the floor. I scramble to my knees and turn my back to him, leaning forward until I am on all fours.

I will do anything he wants right now.

EPOV

I could know this woman for a million years, but I will never be able to easily define her. I will never know exactly what she is, what she has. What I do know is that whatever it is, I want it. All of it.

The feeling she evokes in me is primal, instinctive. She fits me like a glove and everything she does turns me on. I am out of my head as I spin us and pull her legs over my shoulders. I know I'm being rough with her, but it feels right. It feels like this is the way it's supposed to be.

I grit my teeth, and I'm fucking her so hard I know she'll be sore.

She is spread out before me, arms flung wide, abandoned and helpless. The look on her face is pure ecstasy. I could do this for the rest of my life.

I change my mind. I want her on her knees in front of me. I flip us again, and she crawls onto all fours and looks back at me with want, desire, and trepidation.

She's trembling, but I know she can't be cold because she's dripping with sweat as I grasp her hips and take a moment to calm my nerves. Her skin is slick and hot, and I breathe deeply, smelling her and me and just – fuck – everything.

BPOV

He draws in a breath and palms my hips, one hand after the other. Then he slowly exhales and rests his pelvis against my ass. I can feel his tension inching through my body.

"Bella," his voice is quiet and rough as he starts to caress my hips and lower back with his thumbs. "You're so… fuck… I want -"

"What?" I'm looking over my shoulder at him in anticipation.

I need to know what he wants. I want to give him what he wants. I want to give him everything. I didn't know I had anything left to give, but whatever I have is his. I'll gladly give it all up to him if it means that he'll keep giving me this.

_Just this one time, Bella._

His head is tilted to the side; eyes closed, jaw loose, brows knit. He's panting.

"Baby…" Edward whispers, dragging his fingers down my ass to the juncture between my thighs. "Spread your legs a little wider for me."

He lightly taps the inside of my thigh, and I obey, sinking lower toward the rug. He glides his long middle finger into my cunt and continues to grip my hip with his left hand.

_Dude, keep calling me Baby and give me back that magic cock, and I will do anything you ask me to do._

"Down on your forearms, Bella," he commands with a gentle hand between my shoulder blades.

I'm shaking as I comply.

I've done doggie style before. I barely remember though, it's been so long. I'm not sure what to expect right now, but I have the distinct feeling that Edward will not disappoint.

Two fingers inside and one up and around my clit…

I start to tighten and he chuckles low and thick. "Eager little girl…"

His voice is smooth and teasing, and I can feel his erection bumping against my ass with each thrust of his fingers.

_God… please…_

"God, Edward…" I whimper. "Please."

He does me the favor of a lifetime by pushing his cock back inside me.

"Ready, baby?" His hands return to my hips, and I can feel my wetness on his fingers.

I hang my head and roll my hips, as he slips deeper inside. He sinks in slowly, inch by excruciating inch.

_Oh. My. God._

"Oh, my God." I think I'm crying. Or maybe dying.

Edward hisses and clutches my hips hard, digging his fingers into my skin. He exhales slowly and curls over to rest his head at my collar line, bracing his hands on the floor, bracketing my own.

EPOV

I'm arched over Bella's back, moving in and out of her body slow, but rough. I plant a kiss on the pretty, Celtic tattoo at the top of her back and ghost my lips across her shoulders. My teeth graze her scapulae as I breath and smile against the silk of her skin.

I want to wrap her up and hide her away. I don't want to share her with anyone else. I want to crawl inside her and never come back.

I sit upright, one hand at the nape of her neck and the other poking into her hip. I increase our rhythm and fuck her faster and harder, grunting.

_God, I hope this is good for her._

BPOV

Edward is gripping my neck with one hand until it travels up my scalp to tangle in my hair, pulling solid and tight. He continues to knot his fist into my messy locks, and the sensation of him tugging my hair and hitting me so deep inside is overwhelming.

Fucking him is better than anything I've ever done.

_Do I feel as good to him as he does to me?_

EPOV

_Fuck. Yes._

I turn her head to the side and dive for the apex between her shoulder and neck to grab a mouthful of flesh. She gasps my name in surprise and excitement. I can feel her start to quake and tighten around me.

"Fuck," I grind out from around the teeth that are sinking into her skin.

BPOV

He's getting deeper by the second and my whole body is trembling. I can feel his cock all the way down to my fingers and my toes. His pace is brutal and extraordinary. I don't know how much more I can take, but I'd rather die than have him stop what he's doing.

"I can't…" I whine. "Please…"

EPOV

"Come on, baby…" I release my teeth from her neck and nuzzle her face, whispering in her ear. "Come for me."

And she does. She comes in waves, crying out loud into the tiny, dark studio. I follow behind her with a shout.

BPOV

"That's right," he murmurs as he releases my hair and slides his hands down my slippery back to my hips. "There's a good girl."

We collapse in a sweaty heap onto the soft rug. My thong is a ruined scrap of silk, strung around my hips and the door to my apartment is still ajar. I cannot stifle my laughter at the absurdity of this situation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

I'm still giggling at the fact that I'm on the floor, thong torn and hanging limply from my hips, with my front door open. Edward is a sweaty mass of sex as he slips out of my body and rolls onto his back.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes as he ties off the condom and discards it in the nearby wastebasket.

_Thank god he had a condom, because I sure as hell did not anticipate this turn of events._

It suddenly occurs to me that Edward had a condom in his back pocket at the ready. Obviously this isn't his first time at the Cheat on Your Spouse Rodeo. I groan as I roll over to a sitting position.

"You okay?" Edward does an excellent job of feigning concern, sitting up and turning his full attention to me, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah," I rasp. "I'm just a little sore, that's all."

"Shit," Edward curses as he tentatively touches my hipbone. "You're bruised, baby."

I'm surprised by his continued usage of the word "baby". I dumbly stare down at my hips.

"Wow." I blink, I've never been bruised during sex before. "There's another first."

I look back up at Edward, and I can almost believe that he is genuinely alarmed.

_Man, he's good. I wonder if he fools his wife with that face._

My apartment is a wreck, and I'm sure it's some kind of symbol of the mess I've made of my life.

I groan as I gingerly move about in an attempt to regain some semblance of dignity in front of my married one-night stand. I search to find my black cotton Ralph Lauren jammie pants under my desk along with my Reverend Horton Heat tank top.

_Oh, Reverend… I have sinned!_

"I, uh…" I mumble and shuffle into my toasty Ugg flip-flops. "I'm gonna use the restroom. Help yourself to… whatever…"

Inside my bathroom I pee, wash my hands, splash water on my face, and dry myself with my fluffy, black hand-towel. I don't bother to switch the light on, because the lights from the alley shine through the skylight. Besides, I don't really need an early damage assessment.

"Okay, Bella…" I whisper to myself in the mirror above my sink. "You can do this. Everybody's had a one-night stand."

_I've_ never had a one-night stand, but from what I gather, the dude doesn't usually stick around. As much as I'd love to have Edward stay, I'm sure he's ready to walk out the door.

"Just get out there, smile, and say 'thanks for the fantastic fuck! Oh, and by the way, say hello to your daughter for me'."

_Ugh…_

Leave it to me. The one time I decide to have a hook up that's rated 'M' for Mature, it's with a married man who has a kid.

I take a deep breath in preparation for what is to come. I'll write in my journal, go to my therapist, say 10 Hail Marys, and I'll never have to see him again.

"You're not Catholic, dumbass," I exhale as I secure my mess of hair on top of my head with an elastic band. "And you _want_ to see him again."

EPOV

When Bella closes the bathroom door behind her I wonder what she meant by 'another first'. I'll try to pin her down on that if she ever comes out of the bathroom.

She's doing an excellent job of trying to shut me out. She's embarrassed. I can already see her backtracking in her mind. She's trying to figure out how to pretend that this didn't happen.

I'm not going to let her.

As I stand to gather my clothes I can hear Bella talking to herself. At least, I assume she's talking to her self. Her cell phone is wedged between the door and the doorjamb, so unless she has a landline installed next to the toilet, she isn't ordering a pizza.

Her talking to herself is kind of endearing. However, if I had heard Victoria talking to herself in her bathroom after we had sex, I would have assumed she was scheming with her evil twin in an effort to somehow suck me dry.

I flip a switch, and the walls are awash with soft lighting. This space is very Bella. It's cozy and clean, decorated with rich colors and fabrics. It's warm and inviting, but it's also dark, obscure.

After I dress I find my iPhone and wallet on the floor. I move her red shoes closer to her closet and make my way to the door to retrieve her phone and give us a little more privacy.

I see her wallet is also on the floor. I pick it up, and it flops open to reveal her ID.

_Isabella Marie Swan._

_DOB: September 13, 1981._

_Height: 5"4'._

_Weight: 115_

I flip the wallet closed, because if I've learned anything from my mother and Tanya, it is that women do not like to reveal certain numbers to anyone.

As I place the wallet on her desk, I spot a box of Camel Wide Lights on the shelf just above her computer monitor, black lighter lying neatly on top. Since I don't see an ashtray anywhere in sight, I assume Bella smokes outside. I swipe the pack and head to the door.

After about three minutes of attempting to satisfy my compulsive addiction, Bella joins me on her balcony walkway with a bottle of Stella Artois. She slides down the side of the building, landing on her butt, knees bent.

She eyes me sideways as she takes a small sip from the bottle, and then timidly hands me the beer before snatching a cigarette from the pack, lighter blazing in a flourish. I take a few drinks of the beer and continue to stare at her, willing her to look at me.

I hand the bottle back to her and she accepts it with a shy smile. A look of relief covers her face. After a few drags from her cigarette, she grimaces and takes a big gulp of the beer.

"You're welcome to stay," her voice is small and quiet.

She's zipped an oversized hoodie over her tiny frame. Her toe is tapping, she's chewing her bottom lip and staring straight forward. She sips the beer and takes light drags from her cigarette, never looking me in the eye.

"I'd like that," I reach out a hand, touching her forearm. "Thank you. I've had a great time with you tonight."

She looks apprehensive, worried. I want to reassure her that what we did is okay. It's better than okay. It's fantastic and I want to do it again. And again and again…

BPOV

_He had a 'good time' with me? Oy. Patronizing much?_

I laugh. Because, really? He _thanked_ me. Like I did him a favor.

"Well, gee," I roll my eyes and stub out my Camel in the nearby flowerpot. "I had a good time, too! Maybe we should do it again sometime."

"Okay," Edward nods without missing a beat.

We just fucked like porn stars on the floor of my apartment. Yet, he appears to be ready for a second round. Either I'm in an alternate universe where male models flock to me, or someone spiked his drink at the bar.

Never in my life have I been in the situations I keep finding myself in with Edward Cullen. This dude is like… I dunno, something uncommon for sure. Maybe we could make this work afterall.

_No, wait… still married._

Not that I can call him out on it. I brought him home. Practically begged him to fuck me.

"Okay," I agree, to what, I'm not certain. "Let's go back inside."

As we cross the threshold into my apartment, I hear his silky voice behind me.

"Put some music on," his hand is on the small of my back. "Something soft."

He passes me to enter my bathroom. While he's in there _not_ talking to himself like a fucking crazy person, I fold out my futon and pull the bedding from the leather ottoman that I have shoved to the side.

I quickly cover the mattress with the amethyst colored fitted sheet. As Edward joins me again, I fluff the blood red duvet covered down comforter over the top and toss the pillows at the head.

"No music?" he asks and I feel under scrutiny for not following through with his request.

I punch the pillows and huff my impatience. I'm sick of everyone judging me. Jake, my mom, Rose... Why should he be any different?

"I didn't exactly have time, what with the bed-making…" I mumble under my breath.

"It's fine, Bella." Edward confidently strides close to me, unflappable. "I just thought music might be nice. No big deal."

Edward grasps my hand in his. He pulls me close, cloaks me in his warmth, and settles his chin on my head.

I'm confused by his reaction. Jake would have been contrite. He would've apologized and whined about how he hated to make me mad.

Edward is shirtless, as he has been since I yanked his wife beater over his head, but I am only just now noticing the un-fucking-believable definition of his body. I mean, I could tell he was fit, but… _fuck_.

I run my hand across his stomach and then up over his chest. Honestly, I have no fucking clue why I'm so balls out with Edward.

I was so frantic earlier, scents and sensations driving me. Now I want to take him in. In his entirety.

"Mmm…" Edward moans lightly into my hair as he nuzzles me and strokes my back, reaching between us to tug on the zipper of my hoodie "I want this off. Now."

I stand back and let him unzip my sweatshirt. He pushes it off my shoulders with both hands, and then grasps the back of my neck, burying one hand in my hair, as he continues to rid me of the fleece with his other hand.

He kisses me. No tongue, just lips sucking lips. Teeth, nibbling. So warm.

My hands travel up and make their way home, to his scalp. I feel suddenly very in need of something, and I wrench his locks in my hand, trying with all my might to find what I'm looking for.

"Relax, baby." He pulls me down to straddle him as he sits on the futon. "Everything's gonna be alright."

I almost cry because I have no idea what he's talking about, but I also know exactly what he's saying. Everything is _not_ going to be alright. I would love to keep him as my very own, right here between my legs forever. But I can't.

His hands are cupping my face and he's placing little kisses down my jaw and throat. I grind into his lap and feel him hard underneath his weird, black suspender pants. I'm still a little tender down there, and I flinch involuntarily.

Edward chuckles lightly, rolling me into the comforter and pillows. We're on our sides and he looks deep into me, tucks my hair behind my ear. He kisses my mouth slow and sweet.

"I haven't been that wound up for anybody in a long time," Edward mutters quietly into my lips. "I was too rough on you, I'm sorry."

_If you're going to apologize, apologize for being married and unavailable._

"I'm fine," I shrug off his apology, because I still don't know how to be alone with him even though he already made me come twice tonight.

"Okay…" he pulls slightly away from my face and looks at me uncertainly. "I just don't want you to think -"

"What?" I ask. "That you were hot for me? No worries, no regrets."

His eyes are wide. He blinks once, shakes his head and looks down, traces my collarbone with his finger. He's going to say goodbye now, which is for the best.

"No regrets," he whispers as he closes in to nibble on my skin, making me shiver and squirm.

EPOV

I have plenty of regrets at this point in my life, but Bella isn't a part of any of them. I'm not sure how I'm going to make this work with her, but I'm going to try my damnedest.

First order of business is to make her come again. Soon.

The indignation from our therapist and rubber band conversation made a return appearance when I asked her about the music. Interesting that her aggravation with me is much less when I'm on my knees promising her orgasms.

I trail kisses down her throat and across her chest. She's wearing a little black tank top with a dark red, gruesome design on the front. I lick and suck at her nipples through the thin cotton material, and she moans in my arms.

Bella rolls and undulates as I kiss and caress her, and I get that gleeful feeling again. Like I'm a teenager making out with my girlfriend on the couch.

She drags a hand down my torso to the waist of my pants. She toys with the button while my mouth toys with her ear.

I reach down to her hand and pop the button on my pants, giving her permission and access. She brushes the back of her hand across my abdomen, scrapes her nails down the trail of hair that leads to my groin, and then brings both of her hands back up to my face.

I roll her on her back and pull her soft, cotton pants over her hips and down her thighs. I settle myself between her legs, being careful not to place too much direct pressure on her center. I can feel that she's wet, because my bare stomach is where I'm connected to her at the moment.

_So wet. So sweet._

I push her tank top up over her breasts and she's breathing heavy. She spreads her legs further, bending her knees, whining. My tongue laps at her nipples, the underside of her tits. God, she's whimpering in my ear and getting me so fucking wet.

I inch down further, take the backs of her thighs in my hands, and open her up gently, but wide. She smells like sex. So fucking good. I splay her pussy lips with my thumbs and slowly put my tongue inside.

"Fuck!" she cries and arches off the bed, hands wound in the comforter.

She's so close. I swear, I don't know who's been fucking this girl, but whoever it is, they weren't doing a very good job. I touch her clit with my forefinger and push down while I fuck her with my tongue, and she's coming undone within minutes.

I crawl up beside her and kiss her sweat-dampened brow. Her chest is rising and falling in time with her heavy panting. The sight of her bare, glistening tits is making me harder than I thought possible.

I want to sink into her, lose myself. But I don't want to hurt her, and I only brought one condom.

Bella sits up and pulls her tank top the rest of the way off and then lies on her side, looking at me.

"Wow," she breathes. "You must think I'm the biggest slut..."

_Wait – what?_

I chuckle in disbelief. This whole time I've been thinking just the opposite. Bella looks at me like I'm laughing _at her_, so I sit up, cross-legged, and take her hands in mine.

"Bella… no," I blink slowly and shake my head, inching as close to her as possible, but my cock is throbbing painfully in my pants. "I do not think you're a slut. Quite the contrary – I feel honored that you'd be with me like this. "

Bella looks confused and a little irritated, bites her bottom lip again.

"Bella," I pull her hand to my lips and kiss her fingertips. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? How sweet? How much of a fucking turn on?"

BPOV

He's not leaving. He just went down on me, which garnered the loveliest results. He's asking me if I know that he's turned on by me. I mean, yeah, I see he's got a hard-on the size of Texas, but for me?

Instead of responding verbally, I do what any self-respecting slut would do. I reach over and get to work on his zipper. Edward has made me come three times tonight. The least I could do is try to keep up.

_Dude goes commando. Jesus. How did I miss that before?_

"Lay down," I push at his chest, trail my fingers down his body and pull his pants off.

"No wonder I'm so sore," the brazen hussy in me possesses my vocal capacity and purrs. "I'll be lucky to get that all the way inside my mouth, Edward."

Edward groans and rolls his head on the pillow, reaching up to wind my loose ponytail around his wrist. With his fingers buried to my scalp, he draws me down and kisses me hard on the mouth, pushing his tongue past my lips and teeth.

I straddle his waist as filthy thoughts race through my head at the mere sensation of his cock against my ass. Never in my wildest dreams have I considered a cock _in_ my ass to be a good thing. But right now? I'm considering it.

Edward releases me from the kiss and mumbles against my jaw. "Are you implying that you want to suck my cock, Bella?"

_I should really clarify._

"Not implying," I climb off of him and dive for the object of my current desire. "Telling."

I take him in my mouth and down my throat. I remember from experience that sucking cock is unpleasant, especially the jizz. Edward, on the other hand, is very pleasant - the sounds he's making, the big, warm hand at the back of my head.

I should call John Mayer and tell him he needs to change his lyrics, because _Edward's_ body is a wonderland.

"Bella… fuck," Edward groans and writhes under my face.

I'm kneeling at his side with one hand between his knees and the other beside his hip. His hand is firmly guiding my head. He runs another hand down the inside of my thighs and pulls me around, so I'm straddling his face.

This is so insane. I wish I had photographic memory, because this is - hands down - the most intense sexual experience I've ever had.

Edward kisses my thighs, strokes my hips, and literally kisses my ass.

"Bella…" Edward's voice is raspy, out of breath. "I'm gonna come. Are you gonna swallow?"

_Fuck yes._

One finger circling my clit, teeth in my thigh, cock in my throat...

I hum around him, relax, take him deeper. He hooks two fingers inside me and comes in my mouth. I swallow it all. Barely. It's a little bit gross and a lot sexy.

Fingers inside me, hand on my hip, pulling. Lips on my clit, sucking.

I come again with my head resting on his hip.

EPOV

_Four. That's a record, Cullen. Even for you._

"Come here," I want her in my arms.

I'm spent. She has to be beat.

"Let me hold you," I sigh. "Under the covers."

"Wait," she's pulling on her pants and tank top, her voice is tired, scratchy. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Yeah," I scrub at my face with one hand. "Water."

Bella slowly rolls off the bed and wanders into her kitchen area. She thumbs toward the bathroom, and I nod in understanding.

As she disappears behind the door, I turn down the bed for us. Soon she emerges and grabs two bottles of Aquafina from her refrigerator.

"You should take some ibuprofen," I suggest, because I'd feel a lot better if she could walk tomorrow without a limp.

"I didn't drink _that_ much," she scoffs and rolls her eyes, throwing me attitude again. "If I drink water, I'll be fine."

"I wasn't referring to the alcohol, Bella," I feel my brow arch. "I was referring to the fact that you're sore. The ibuprofen will prevent the soreness from intensifying."

I don't know if I'm pissing her off by showing her I care, or embarrassing her for not taking care of herself. Regardless, I do care and so should she.

I climb into her bed as she makes her way to the bathroom. I can here pills being shaken from a plastic bottle.

Bella joins me, yawning and stretching. When she settles on her side facing me, she looks relaxed and open. I am overwhelmed with the desire to know the most banal things about her.

"What's your favorite color?" I utter quietly, cozying into the mattress.

"Green," Bella answers, her lids heavy with impending sleep. "You?"

"Red," I answer. "Food?"

"Lasagna. Veggie," Bella yawns. "Do you eat meat?"

"Yeah," I inch closer to her, rolling her so her back is to me. "But I like veggie lasagna."

Bella rolls her hips, rubbing her ass into my groin. It's sexy and sweet, but we're both exhausted. I just wrap my arms around her and kiss her delicate neck.

"Debussy or the Dead Kennedys?" I ask, suspecting I already know the answer.

"I like both," she mutters, her voice drifting off as she starts to fall asleep. "So do you…"

She's right. I do like both. And I like her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"Oh, my god…" I groan because it's early and I feel like I hiked a 14er yesterday. "Angel, stop! Get _off_ of my _head_. _Jesus_..."

I hear my cat yowl and hiss as I bat him away from my face. Then I hear a distinctively human male chuckle beside me, and I freeze. I jerk around in my bed to find Edward sprawled on his back, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, and laughing softly.

_Oh, right... Not a 14er._

He's sleep-washed, scruffy, and heartbreakingly beautiful as he rolls to his side and tucks his hands under the pillow.

"Don't look so shocked," he whispers. "You'll make me feel like Adam Sandler in that movie where Drew Barrymore has amnesia."

He grins at me as memories from the night before flash through my mind.

_Edward licking me, stroking me, fucking me against the wall. Inside me on the floor, on my hands and knees. Sucking, licking, swallowing. Edward between my legs. For hours._

"Sorry," I shake my head. "I'm not all here in the mornings."

"S'ok," he's still smiling, looking right into me, and it's _too fucking early_ for this intensity shit. "You just woke up with a strange man in your bed. You're allowed a little adjustment time."

He pulls a hand from under his pillow and smoothes a stray hair of mine behind my ear. I realize that I must look crazy. Like the wild woman of Borneo.

_Thank you, Aunt Lilah, for that lovely little racist analogy that my sleep-deprived and alcohol addled brain cannot seem to edit. Ugh._

I sigh and close my eyes, relishing his hands on me. He runs one finger down my jaw to my chin, across my lips. Then his fingers drag back up and into the hair at the nape of my neck, squeezing.

I hear the crashing of glass bottles and the loud motor of the recycling truck in the alley. It's 6 a.m. I need to go for my run and start my day; get back to reality. I just want to lie here with Edward's hand on my neck until I die.

"Time to make the donuts," I sigh.

Edward laughs at my joke because he doesn't want to be rude to the girl who swallowed his semen.

I disentangle myself from his warm fingers and limbs, rolling away from his welcoming, masculine body. I slide my feet into my furry flip-flops and shuffle into the kitchen area to switch on my espresso machine.

My kitchen takes up half of the shoebox in which I live. I don't know who thought it'd be a good idea to install a full kitchen into a studio apartment, but my belly is certainly grateful whenever Garrett comes over to bake bread pudding.

_Mmm… bread pudding._

I'm shaken from my carbohydrate lust by Edward's movement and a stifled yawn. He's ready to go. I knew he would leave, so I need to stop feeling so jilted. It's just that I was kind of enjoying the fairytale.

"Bella," Edward pulls on his pants and wife beater, and he's shoving his feet into his boots. "You're amazing..."

_Here we go. "You were amazing, Bella. I loved what you did with your tongue…"_

He picks up his wallet from my ottoman and pointedly hands something to me.

_Law Offices of Denali & Cullen_

_Edward M. Cullen, Esq._

_325 W. Main…_

Edward gave me his business card. At least he didn't give me his black card.

"I know you're busy," he slips his wallet into his back pocket looking hopeful, like he's closing a business deal with a major corporation. "But I'd welcome a call from you… anytime you're available."

It's early, I haven't had any caffeine, and I have yet to get out for a jog in the fresh morning air to really wake my ass up. But I'm pretty sure I'm getting the Let's Have Adulterous Hook Ups proposition from Edward M. Cullen, Esq. I can't decide if I feel professional or _professional_.

My hangover is quickly evaporating, only to be replaced by a mini-panic attack and a massive migraine headache.

I try to rationalize with Edward and give him back his card - I certainly appreciate the hair pulling and biting, but it isn't worth the images in my head of a heartbroken little girl and her sweet, demure mother once they find out about the hooker who's banging their patriarch.

"I'd like to see you again," Edward folds his long fingers over the card in my hand, stopping me from returning his stupid, fucking business card. "When your schedule allows."

I don't say a word. I just nod. I don't think it matters what I might say. He's obviously used to getting what he wants. Clearly, he wants some kind of fling on the side, while his dutiful wife sits at home in Chicago caring for their toddler.

Edward mills about the shoebox, gathering his crap, sans shirt. He does the condescending kiss on the forehead thing, ruffles my hair, looks me in the eyes with his philandering smirk, and then walks out the door.

I decide not to go for a run. I wash my face, brush my teeth, gulp down thirty-two ounces of Fiji with three Excedrine Migraine capsules, and make a quadruple latte.

Then, I call my mom to tell her about my new career opportunity as a call girl.

"Oh, sweetie," Renee is such a romantic, it kinda makes me gag. "You can never really know what someone else is thinking, you just have to have faith."

"Have faith in what?" I whine to my mommy. "It's obvious he considers me to be some little chippy whom he can just booty call. I don't need a sixth sense to figure that out."

"All I'm saying is, give him a chance to explain," Renee defends my married lover. "Talk to him. Maybe he didn't mean anything by the card?"

"Mom," I sigh and roll my eyes because she isn't helping at all. "He's married. And he gave me a business card. Fuck's sake! Seriously? Who does that?"

"Maybe he didn't know what else to do," she's grasping at straws.

"Mom," I scoff. "I'm pretty sure this jackass has a good idea of 'what to do' in almost any given situation."

"Bella," Renee's voice contains the slightest bit of teasing. "If he's such a jackass, why did you invite him to your apartment?"

"Because I was horny?" My only explanation of why I did those things with him is the ever-increasing probability that Edward Cullen is the devil.

"You don't ever do anything on a whim or 'just because', Bella." Renee's voice is soft and pleading. "There has to be a reason."

Renee is all into that soulmate shit. I know she's implying that there's some kind of greater power out there that urged me to fuck Edward like dime-store tart,but it doesn't matter. At the end of the day, he's still married, and not to me.

I change the subject not-so-cleverly and tell my mom that I have to meet Rose for breakfast. I send my love to Phil, and she reminds me to take the vitamins she sent me. She swears they are actually fruits and vegetables. Did I mention my mother is a flake?

I dress quickly in yoga clothes, a black baseball cap, and flip-flops. I throw on my Foo Fighters hoodie and my iPod, and I saunter the few blocks to the Stube. Rose is sitting in a booth with our weekend schedule, coffee, and water. She's talking on the phone. She tenses as her eyes meet mine.

"Right," Rose says to whoever is on the other line. "Three-thirty. Good. Thanks."

Our server asks if I want coffee. I decide that since I've already had four shots of espresso and it's not even nine in the morning, I should maybe take a breather. I order Peppermint tea and some wheat toast.

"Rough night?" Rose arches a brow.

"Ugh," I answer, rolling my eyes and sipping my water.

We sit in silence as Rose organizes the materials for our meeting, and our server brings my toast and tea.

"Dude," I take a deep breath and prepare to break my Not Gonna Tell Anyone rule for the second time in less than three hours. "I did something… out of character last night."

Rose looks alarmed.

"What?" she whispers as she gently places her cup of coffee back on the table, looking at me sideways.

"I kind of, um…" I don't know how to tell Rose "Miss Never Has a Hair Out of Place, Let Alone Something as Tawdry as an Affair With A Married Man," what I did last night. "I took somebody home with me last night."

"Who?" She turns white as a sheet.

Last night, Rose left the party very abruptly. Her phone call to tell me she made it home all right was terse at best. It's safe to say that her behavior this morning is not necessarily surprising in light of recent events, but it is certainly disturbing.

"Hey," I reach across the table, avoiding my drama. "Are you okay? What's up with you leaving early last night and now looking like you saw a ghost?"

"Who did you leave with last night, Bella?" Rose demands.

"His name is… Edward," I stutter. "Edward Cullen. He's new in town… an attorney?"

Rose closes her eyes and slumps down into the booth. She looks like I just told her someone keyed her Beemer.

"I know him," Rose says.

"Wait – what…" We cannot be talking about the same Edward Cullen.

"I knew him at Northwestern," Rose sighs and shakes her hair out of her face. "He was in Royce's fraternity."

I'm speechless. I cannot imagine what she must be thinking right now. I don't even know what _I'm_ thinking right now.

"Was he…" I can't breathe.

"No," Rose shakes her head and looks down.

The room is spinning around me as our server returns to the table. I order two Bloody Marys, and Rose does not object.

"Edward had a pretty tightly-knit group of friends outside the house," Rose continues quietly, trying to answer my unasked questions. "He was arrogant; he never seemed interested in me, which always pissed me off, but I suppose I'm grateful for that now…"

Rose lets out a humorless bark of laughter before continuing.

"When I saw him last night," she balls the napkin in her right hand, and her eyes look tired, defeated. "I just had to get out of there. The story was all over the papers. There was a trial… Edward was called to testify on Royce's behalf."

When our sever returns with our drinks, I realize that my day is shot. I'm not going to yoga. I'm going to drink all day and pretend I live in a world without Edward Cullen.

"That said," Rose arches a brow. "He didn't end up testifying, for whatever reason. Probably because he couldn't find anything decent to say about Royce…"

I've already downed half my Bloody Mary by the time Rose ceases to illustrate the media circus and nightmare she lived the spring of '95.

"I'm sorry," Rose sits up straight in her seat and takes my hands in hers. "Tell me what you were trying to tell me. I just wanted you to know why I flaked last night."

I'm numb. It's all too much for me to take right now. I ask the server for a refill on my water because my mouth is dry.

"He's married," I mumble. "He's married, he has a child, and I fucked him on the floor of my apartment."

"Wow," Rose blinks. "I did _not_ expect that."

"Neither did I," I gather my iPod and ear buds and toss a twenty onto the table. "You know what? I just remembered that I have a… thing…"

I don't know what "thing" I'm referring to, but I have to get out. I'm confused and overwhelmed.

"Bella, wait!" Rose is walking after me as I head to the door. "I'm sorry I just blurted all that out… I didn't know-"

"God, Rose," I laugh with no humor. "Are you seriously apologizing to me? I have a one-night stand with a married man who played a supporting role in the most traumatic experience of your life and you're apologizing to _me_?"

Rose's expression softens. A look of compassion crosses her face.

"Tell me about last night," Rose nudges my elbow, softly encouraging me. "I'm your friend. Whatever happened has got you spun."

Thank God it's only a Wednesday and Poppycock's is more popular than the Stube this time of day. There are only twelve people staring at me instead of the fifty that are sure to be dining on Oatmeal Pancakes at Poppycock's.

"B," Rose gazes at me in earnest. "However Edward played into my life in the past is passed."

"It's not a big deal." I scoff as we make our way back to the table. "It was one night. That's all."

Rose slides into the booth with a look of 'whatever' on her face. "Bella, you don't do one-night stands."

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," I flippantly reply and instantly regret my Bloody Mary choice because it's attempting a repeat performance.

"Right," Rose eyes me curiously and with some humor. "On the floor, huh?"

"Yes," I answer, stirring nothing into my tea. "On the floor, against the wall, in my bed..."

Rose's eyebrows shoot to the ceiling and she purses her lips. "Did he spend the night?"

"Yeah." I don't know what that has to do with anything.

"I see." Rose's phone chimes and she answers.

Rose carries on a clipped conversation with the party rental guy, who always fucks something up. Unfortunately, he's the only one in town who can pull off events our size. When she ends the call, I'm still super interested in the swirling motions I can create in my tea.

"Did he ask to see you again?" Rose takes a sip of her coffee.

"Why does it matter?" I huff and whip off my hoodie. "He's married. It's not like we're gonna settle down and have ten million babies…"

Rose arches a brow again, and I've had enough of her patronizing speculation.

"Can we change the subject, please," I beg and squirm in my seat. "Like, maybe we should talk about our event?"

"Sure," Rose puts her cup down and starts shuffling papers. "But just so you know? I'm not letting this go."

Of course she didn't. As we sorted through RSVPs that night, I gave her the rundown. She was sweet as she listened. When I told her about what we will forever refer to as Business Cardgate, she agreed that it was a shady thing to do and vowed to cut his balls off with her letter opener.

The next few days were a blur. Producing events is invigorating, time-consuming, and provides lots of fantastic opportunities for escape. The grueling pace of my job kept Jacob and I afloat for months.

But I still thought of Edward. I saw his card on my pub table every morning as I made my way to the shower. I thought of him every night as I drifted to sleep.

Saturday morning, I roll out of bed at six thirty. I pull on my running gear, set my iPod to shuffle, and run myself awake with the sun on my face and the cool morning air. I'm at my desk by 8:00 a.m. with damp hair and my typical uniform of yoga pants, flip flops, and a hoodie.

"Ugh," Rose breezes into our office balancing an enormous stack of mail in one hand and a tray full of Starbucks in the other. "Bella, if you do not C&D with the Fiona Apple, I will kill you myself."

She plunks our coffee on the worktable and fastidiously begins to sort our mail into the appropriate bins. I stare blankly at her, phone fixed in my right hand and a chunk of my snarled mess of hair wrapped around the middle finger of my other hand.

Rose is wearing crimson Manolo sling-backs, dark wash denim capris, and a pink peasant blouse. Her toes are perfect, her hair is immaculate, and her make up is flawless. She looks like a fucking Barbie doll on the morning of the most chaotic and stressful day our business has ever seen.

I hate her.

"And stop with the hair twisting," she smacks my hand away from my head and jerks my iPod from it's dock to choose some more uplifting music. "You'll look like a Rastafarian if you keep that shit up."

Jack Peteson floats from the sound system as I drop the phone that is clamped in my fist and slump back into my chair.

"Why can't these fucking people just read their goddamn email?" I wail and yank at my unruly mane once again, ignoring Rose's beauty advice. "I realize they're all privileged and shit, but seriously. Don't they comprehend how _ill-mannered_ it is to insist they didn't get the letter or the email, or the second letter…"

"Oh, Bella…" Rose sighs as she starts to open RSVPs with a sleek black letter opener. "I admire your optimism, really I do - and by optimism I mean naiveté - but I have a migraine, and your attitude is of no use to me."

"I just wish this event was over so we could get the fuck out of here for a weekend," I grumble and sigh, rubbing my neck and my temples. "I cannot wait for Vegas."

"Yeah," Rose says dreamily and stares off for a moment at nothing as she fumbles with ticket packets for tonight's gala. "Mimosas and heat… and massages by the pool."

We each have a moment where we dream about our upcoming vacation until the desk phone rings, heralding what I assume is a cranky, mislead event attendee wondering where to pick up his tickets for tonight's event.

"Devil," I curse under my breath and grab my double non-fat latte for a swig of pep as I prepare to answer the call.

"If they'd just read their fucking mail…" my voice trails off. "Hello, this Bella!"

"Bella," his voice is like a shot of Irish Car Bomb – sweet like whiskey and soft like cream with a thick, dark finish.

_Oh…_

I am momentarily dazed because I know that voice – I dream about that voice – but it's out of place in this… place. I'm having a hard time reconciling it in my brain.

"B?" A look of concern mars Rose's lovely face. "What is it?"

"Um…" I mutter. "Edward…"

_Why is he calling me?_

"Bella," I can hear a smile in his silky voice as it floats across the phone line. "How are you?"

_Guilty? Heartbroken?_

"I'm… good… busy," I shake my head at Rose, who looks about two seconds away from murder. "You?"

He chuckles lightly, and I swear I can feel his breath on my skin, "I'm good. I was wondering if… Can I take you to lunch?"

_Lunch? Is he kidding me with this shit?_

"I, uh…" I manage to stutter.

_Lunch… like we're innocent business associates._

"I can't do lunch today," I gain a tiny bit of courage as I spot Rose's incredulous look from across the table.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes politely. "I know this is short notice. How about tomorrow?"

I hear the clock ticking, my heart beating and Rosalie's toe tapping. I look up into her eyes and my vision begins to blur. Rose unfolds an arm from across her chest and extends it to my phone as she walks around the table with a stern set to her face.

"Bella?" Edward waits patiently on the line. "Are you there?"

_No… lunch is not what I need from you._

I shake my head at Rosalie, or maybe Edward, because I can't. Fucking. Do this right now.

She draws her hand back and makes a slicing motion from one side of her throat to the other and mouths the words "Goodbye Edward."

"Uh, I gotta go," I am as blithe as possible. "Big gala tonight… crazy, busy… I'll, uh… call you… later."

"Bella, wait –" I hang up on him.

I roll my eyes, sigh, and try to think of something to say that's pithy and sardonic, when a tear escapes my eye and splashes to the table in front of me.

"Sweetie," Rose saunters to my side with a Kleenex and wraps a warm arm around my shoulders. "It's your night to shine, B, and that fuckstick is not going to ruin it for you."

I never expected him to actually call. I didn't even give him my phone number.

"I wasn't expecting him to call." I hear myself choke, and I feel a constant stream of wet on my cheeks. "I don't know how to be single, Rose. I'm such a tool."

_Shit, I'm a fucking hot mess._

"I'm sorry I'm being such a whiner," I sob. "You know… it's the pressure from this event. I want it to be a success for both of us."

"Bella, he gave you a fucking _business card_ after the most intimate experience of your life," she leans back to inspect my face and then stands to retrieve a brush from her bag. "You're hurt and confused. It's okay to cry."

I calm down and my sobs subside over the next five minutes as Rose sets about pulling my hair back into a high and tight ponytail. She wraps a thick piece of hair around the elastic and pins it into place to give it a more finished look. We don't answer my ringing phone until Rose declares that I look like a princess.

"Princess Isabella," I snark into my phone as I push myself out of my Herman Miller and head to our closet-sized bathroom to clean my face and reapply the mascara that I cried down my cheeks.

"Princess!" Peter exclaims on the other end of the line. "Feeling cheeky this morning, love? It's only quarter to nine. How are you?"

"Suck," I answer as I hold my phone between my ear and shoulder and risk electrocution as I splash water on my face. "You?"

"Well, I heard a very interesting story last night," I can hear Peter shuffling the phone and Garrett's soft, low voice in the background, so I think he must still be in bed. "Remember that pretty boy you dragged home with you Tuesday night?"

"Which one?" I deadpan as I dry the dampness from my face.

"Cute," Peter mocks. "Stop playing the callus whore, it doesn't suit you. Would you like to know what I learned about your handsome prince or not?"

"Hmm…" I pretend to ponder as I apply moisturizer to my face and throat. "Let me guess. He's bisexual after all?"

"Well the jury's still out on that one," Peter chuckles, and I hear him grunt and assume he's rolling out of bed. "What happened with you two anyway? You never called me back…"

"Get to the point, Mary," I grouch, yanking the wand of black gunk out of its pink encasement and swiping it through my lashes. "I have a big day ahead of me, and I don't have time to play Twenty Questions."

"Honey," I hear a lighter flick and him inhale and exhale as he lights a cigarette. "I am simply providing you with information. You can take it or leave it, but do not give me the Uber-Bitchitude. Okay?"

"Sorry," I screw the mascara tube back together and toss it into the makeup bag that I leave at the office for such emergencies. "I've had a rough week… I shouldn't take it out on you."

"No, you should not," Peter drawls. "What you should do is tell me what is bugging you, Kitten."

I think for a moment about talking to Peter about Edward. Peter's a good listener, and he's always heartfelt with advice. However, I don't want to talk about how I feel right now because I just got done reapplying my fucking eye makeup.

"Can I take a rain check?" I sigh and exit the bathroom, switching off the light. "I'm like a fucking head case today, but maybe we can talk about this over Bloody Marys on Sunday."

Rose has finished the ticket packets and is loading up to head over to the venue.

"I could use a drink right now, to be honest," Peter exhales. "Garrett kept me up until three o'clock in the ay emm and I am _dog_ tired..."

"Pete," I sigh heavily. "I gotta go. We're off to the site to make sure those fucktards from the party rental place don't lay out the grid backward like they did for the wildlife benefit."

"'K," Peter answers. "But before you hang up… He's separated. From his wife."

I am not surprised that Peter possesses this knowledge or that he knows I have reason to care. As a matter of fact, I would not even be surprised if Peter knew which positions Edward and I used and the number of times I came. This is a small town and word gets around.

I am, however, surprised at my reaction to this news.

"You are fucking shitting me…" I stop cold, and Rose cocks an eyebrow.

I am _pissed_.

"No, dear," I can hear Peter simper across the cellular connection. "I am not _shitting_ you. Of course, I obtained this tidbit of information from that drunkard Eric, so you can take it with a grain of salt."

Fifteen minutes ago, I was crying my eyes out because Edward was bound to another woman, and I had done a morally reprehensible deed by sleeping with him. I have been sick to my stomach for days because I wanted this man more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, including that fucking Betty Crocker Easy Bake Oven when I was eight.

Now I learn that he is quite possibly available, or at least on his way to becoming that, and I want to fucking punch him in the junk.

_How dare he let me think he's completely unattainable? How dare he whisper filthy words and terms of endearment in my ear, relentlessly fuck me into my floor, eat me out until I forget my own name, and then NOT TELL ME that he's leaving his wife?_

"Oooo…" Peter coos on the other end of the line. "What kind of filthy words, you dirty girl?"

"Uh…" I respond, and now Rose has both eyebrows hiked up to her impeccably bleached hairline. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Well," Peter chuckles. "You know _me_, love - you can never give me too much information."

"Yeah," I roll my eyes. "I gotta go, Pete."

And I end the call. Apparently today is Hang Up on Everyone Day.

"He's separated," I nearly shout at Rose. "Fucking separated!"

Okay, so I _am_ shouting.

"Can you believe that shit!?" I grab my bag and a box full of portable office supplies. "I have been _brooding_ for _days_ over this tool, and he's… _separated_."

I growl and clutch tightly to the box in my arms. Rose gathers her things and has the sense to keep her mouth shut and not mock my fail.

"Why on God's _fucking_ green earth would he not tell me he was separated from his wife?"

We're walking down the path to my Jeep, and I'm gathering tiny rocks between my feet and my flip-flops.

"Look," Rose stops me with a hand to me shoulder. "I am no fan of Edward Cullen – you know this – but maybe he didn't have a chance to tell you, what with the relentless fucking and eating of your pussy. I'd be pissed too, but try not to overreact."

I take a deep cleansing breath and count to ten. My phone rings, but I let it go to voice mail. Rose drops her hand from my shoulder and readjusts the strap of her Louis Vuitton.

"Let's get this show on the road," I nod at Rose with finality. "We've got rich people to beg for money."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"Edward." Emmett is standing in front of the flat screen with my remote control in one hand and a Heineken in the other. "I am saddened by your lack of choice in pornographic viewing options."

It's Saturday morning, and we're drinking like a couple of college punks. Emmett arrived an hour ago in a private jet. When I got to the airport to pick him up, he was flirting with a girl at the newsstand. She was blushing, and he was tousling her hair. I think she might've been 21.

"I don't watch porn," I answer, as I flop down on the leather sofa next to where he stands. "We've had this discussion."

"You can't order it for your guests?" He sits beside me, grabbing a handful of jellybeans from a glass bowl on the end table.

"I'm sure you can find something else to do in this town besides sit in my house and watch porn." I take a drink from my beer.

"Ooh, yeah…," Emmett tosses the remote into a basket on the coffee table. "Like that tutty fruity classical music festival. That's my idea of a good time."

"Did you just say tutty fruity?" I chuckle, because I've missed the bastard.

"I did," Emmett confirms with a nod and tilt of his beer. "I often use that phrase to describe the things you do. Like going to classical music festivals and denying yourself the pleasure of the Playboy channel."

We sit for several minutes, watching highlights from some game I care nothing about.

"So…" He ends the silence at a commercial break. "Bella."

I continue to stare impassively at the television as he looks intently at my profile.

Bella hasn't called me. She's avoiding what happened between us, and it's frustrating me. I don't want to talk about it right now, but Emmett is persistent. He nudges my leg, urging me to give him more information.

"I don't want to talk about it," I mumble and take a drink of my beer.

When I woke up in Bella's bed three days ago, I was satisfied. Our experience the night before was unlike any other I had ever had. Sure, I've had my share of adventurous sex – a few threesomes, some role-playing, one time in a haunted house – but what I shared with Bella the other night was… intimate. It was a promise of something deeper.

At least that's what I thought.

I thought by leaving the ball in her court that it would embolden her to take a leap, do something just for her. I told her I wanted to see her again. I thought that she would want to see me again as well.

Instead, when I handed her my card, she looked petrified.

"Uh, no." Emmett wags his finger telling me he is not going to let this go. "When I told you I was coming here to get you out of your marriage fail funk, you let the cat out of the bag. So let's have it."

"It's…" I pause to consider how to explain my theory that Bella has her own personal brand of insecurity and a propensity to deny herself the things she wants. "Complicated."

"Stop," he holds up a hand, closes his eyes, and shakes his head. "Stop insulting me, E. I will beat your ass."

"I don't know what to say, man." I sigh and uncross my ankles only to re-cross them the opposite direction. "I told her she was amazing, I gave her my card, and I told her I wanted to see her again. She hasn't called."

"Your _business_ card?" Emmett looks incredulous. "Nice, E. Smooth. No wonder the ladies are droppin' the panties for ya."

"I was trying to give her the upper hand," I explain, because clearly he doesn't understand Bella the way I do. "I wanted her to call me on her own terms."

Emmett scoffs, rolls his eyes, and gulps his beer. He stands and stretches, and I look down at my half-gone/empty pilsner, scraping at the label.

"So. You give her your 'card' and tell her to call to set up an appointment, or whatever, and then what?" Emmett actually uses air quotes before taking a drink from his beer.

He looks at me expectantly, as if I'm going to justify his rude and mocking behavior with an answer.

I roll my eyes. "This is why I didn't want to talk to you about this."

"Why?" He blinks. "Because you didn't want me to call you out for treating your hook-up like an employee?"

"She isn't just a hook-up," I mutter in defense of myself.

"Does _she_ know that?" Emmett asks with a hint of sarcasm.

"I invited her to call me." I uncross my ankles for a final time and sit forward on the couch.

"Invited her?" Emmett continues to mock me. "Wow, she must feel so privileged! Edward Cullen invited her to call him!"

_Where is he going with this?_

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I'm sick of his derisive line of questioning.

"It means that this girl probably thinks you're an arrogant douchebag." He rolls his eyes and waves his hands in the air like it's obvious.

He doesn't know what he's talking about. There is no reason for Bella to think I was being arrogant.

We shared a mind-blowing experience. I gave her my card and told her that I thought she was amazing. I asked her to call me when she was available. I told her that I wanted to see her again when her schedule allowed…

_Oh._

"Have you called her?" Emmett asks, once the realization that I treated Bella like a random hook-up is written all over my face.

"No." I sigh. "I… ah, fuck."

I slam my beer down on the coffee table and run both hands up into my hair.

"E," Emmett jabs my shoulder. "It's easily remedied. Call. Her."

"I didn't get her number," I mumble through my hands, which I drug down the front of my face and are now covering my eyes, nose, and mouth.

Emmett starts to laugh, and it isn't a polite chuckle. It's a bellowing guffaw.

"You didn't get her number." Emmett is still laughing, but he carefully enunciates each word, just to make sure I feel like a complete tool. "That is Classic Edward Cullen, right there. Classic!"

"Dude," he mutes the television, shaking his head and attempting to regain his composure. "Ah, god… didn't get her number… Okay, look, Google her or whatever. Where does she work? Call her at work."

"She's an event planner," I mumble, wracking my brain to remember the name of her company. "She runs a business with Rosalie Hale-"

"Wheeew." Emmett whistles. "Rosie Hale. Haven't heard that name in years. She's here in town?"

Emmett is temporarily distracted by the possibility that he might get to see Rose again, after all these years. Emmett admired her the few times he met her while visiting me at Northwestern.

"Forget it." I wave him off. "She avoided me like the plague when I saw her the other night. Wouldn't even look at me."

"Do you blame her?" Emmett eyes me sideways and sips his beer.

"Em." I grab my beer from the table and sink back into the cushions. "My deposition was considered incriminating and the defense didn't submit it. Still, King was convicted."

"Yeah," Emmett looks thoughtful. "But I'm sure you aren't bringing back any pleasant memories for her is all I'm sayin'."

"No," I concede. "Probably not."

I remember the trial, and how the horrific crime that Royce King and three of my fraternity brothers committed against Rosalie divided us. It was appalling to learn that many of the men, who I considered to be honest, upstanding members of society, were in reality malevolent cowards.

"What's the name of their business?" Emmett brings me back to the present.

"Uh…" I remember Eric mentioning it. "Swan and Hale?"

Emmett motions for me to get off my ass and call her. I grab my iPhone and quickly find her by searching for "Bella Swan event planner". Duh.

I realize that it's Saturday and this is the day of the big gala she mentioned. I don't really know what to say to her, because if Emmett is even partially right, which he probably is, she thinks I'm an asshole.

"Okay." I take a deep breath and am reminded of how much this girl makes me feel like I'm seventeen again.

Emmett rolls his eyes and laughs, punches me in the arm, then lumbers into the kitchen. I can hear him opening and closing cabinets. I assume he's looking for food, because all he ever does when he visits is bug the crap out of me and eat my food.

I pick up my landline and dial the number displayed in the Qwest online listing. The line buzzes twice before she answers.

"Hello, this is Bella!"

"Bella." I relax into the sofa, her voice is like music to my ears.

She doesn't say anything, but I hear another voice in the background. I realize this is probably the worst possible time to call her, but before I can apologize for bothering her at work, she says my name.

_Okay, so she knows my voice. That's good, right?_

"Bella," I'm relieved she hasn't hung up on me. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Busy." Her voice is clipped, but reasonably polite. "You?"

"I'm good." I want to know what she's thinking. "I was wondering if… Can I take you to lunch?"

_Lunch? Cullen, she's got a huge event tonight. She does not want to go to lunch with you._

"I, uh…" she stalls. "I can't do lunch today."

"I'm sorry," I apologize and try to be brief, because I'm wasting her time. "I know this is short notice. How about tomorrow?"

Emmett comes back to the living room with an enormous bowl of Special K Red Berries. He winks at me and gives me a thumbs-up as he chews his cereal and milk dribbles onto his chin.

"Bella?" She isn't speaking, but I can hear her breathing. "Are you there?"

"I gotta go." She sounds sullen and distant. "Big gala tonight… crazy, busy… I'll call you later."

"Bella, wait!"

Emmett's eyes are like saucers. He's sitting in the club chair across the room, slowly chewing his cereal. He finishes swallowing before asking what just happened.

"She hung up on me." I toss my phone onto the coffee table. "Fuck."

"What did she say?" Emmett takes another gigantic bite of cereal.

"She said she was busy." I shrug. "But I think she's just avoiding."

"Avoiding what?" Emmett snorts. "Your ego trip?"

"Will you please stop insulting me for five minutes and try to help me here?" I snap. "She's avoiding _us_. I think I freaked her out."

"What are you," Emmett stands to take his empty bowl back to the kitchen. "Her therapist?"

I have to laugh at the irony of his question. I follow Emmett into the kitchen, finally divulging the less graphic details of the night I met Bella. I tell him I suspect that she avoids what she can't control.

"The thing is." Emmett and I are headed out the door for an nine-thirty tee time. "I don't think there is a lot that scares her, but what scares her _really_ scares her. You know what I mean?"

"Yep," he nods his head as we pile into the Audi. "We've all got our issues. For example: _you_ are a haughty prick, and _I_ use humor to alleviate tense situations."

Emmett stays through the weekend and into the coming week. He has appointments with Jasper and a few property managers in the valley to discuss his plans to rebuild and expand some developments in town.

Sunday night, Emmett and I go to dinner at Alice and Jasper's. Jasper is a fantastic cook and he grills salmon in a sun-dried tomato basil butter sauce with confetti couscous.

"Ooh!" Alice squeals as I hand her the Chateau Roubaud Rosé I picked up to complement the fish. "I love Rosé in the summer."

She kisses Emmett and I each on the cheek, and we make small talk as we help her to set the table on the deck overlooking Hallam Lake. Jasper joins us with plates of couscous before pulling the salmon from the grill.

"What's up with Bella, Edward?"

To the unknowing observer, Alice's question would seem harmless, innocent. But Alice is nowhere near as innocuous as one might think. She always has an agenda.

"She's been busy," I answer, and focus on my fish. "This is delicious, Jasper. You've really outdone yourself."

"Nice try, Edward," Alice sighs and swirls her Rosé in its glass. "You're going to have to tell me sooner or later."

"Later, then." I glare at her, demanding she drop the subject.

She holds my glare and smirks at me for several seconds, then plops her glass down before launching into a debate with Emmett over adoption vs. breeders, with regard to dogs.

Emmett is a firm believer that you can go to any animal shelter in the free world and find yourself "the best friend you could ever want". Alice, on the other hand, wants to raise her dog from a puppy. She wants to know the parents, in order to have a good idea of what the puppy will be like when he or she grows into an adult.

I couldn't give a shit less whether Alice has a pound puppy or a pedigree. I just want Bella to stop avoiding me and tell me what the hell is going on.

It's been two days since I called her and five since I was inside her. It feels like it's been much longer. Just thinking about her – her skin, her hair, her lips – makes me hard. I excuse myself from the table and find the half-bath next to the pantry.

I splash cold water on my face and stare into the mirror.

_Will I ever touch her again?_

She told me she wanted me. She willingly gave herself to me, but I wonder if the hesitation I interpreted as evidence of her innocence was something else entirely.

_Is she ashamed of me? Of what we did?_

I need to stop obsessing. I barely know Bella. Maybe she lied to me about being inexperienced. Maybe she does this kind of thing all the time and my phone call was a total WTF for her. Who the hell knows?

When I rejoin my friends, Emmett is helping Alice clear the dishes and Jasper is cleaning the grill. I ask if I can help Jasper, and he motions to the fireplace, then suggests I start a fire.

"You know," Jasper speaks quietly as I light a long match to set it all aflame. "She really means well. She just gets excited."

He's talking about Alice. I realize I was being a dick and I try to apologize.

"I know," I sigh. My scout training has been put to good use, as the fire is now raging in the hearth. "I'm just touchy. I shouldn't take it out on Alice."

Jasper nods. "She understands, Edward. You know that."

I do know that. I suppose that's why I felt free to react the way I did - I know that Alice and Jasper understand. I know that Emmett understands. They're great friends.

I kick back into a deck lounger as Emmett and Alice join Jasper and I once again. Alice takes a seat at the foot of my chair and asks me for a cigarette. Her request is an olive branch; Alice rarely smokes.

For the remainder of the evening, we chat harmoniously like the tight knit circle that we are. Emmett and I make our way back to my house around midnight and I collapse into bed feeling calm, but emotionally drained.

Monday morning I wake at six, run for an hour, shower, make coffee, and enjoy the bacon and eggs that Emmett cooks. I stop at my P.O. Box on my way to the office, and there is nothing interesting at all.

At nine-thirty my assistant, Jessica, pops her head around my door into my office.

"Mr. Cullen," her bubbly voice invades my sanctuary. "Rosalie Hale is here to see you."

_Fuck._

"Did she say what she wants?"

"No, sir," Jessica shakes her head. "She just asked if you might have a minute for an old friend. I told her I'd check your schedule."

I fold the newspaper I've been reading and carefully place it to the side of my cherrywood desk.

Rose and I have a past, and now because of Bella, we have a present. I am not certain why she's here, but whatever the reason, I doubt it will be friendly. I nod my head and ask Jessica to show Rosalie in.

She enters the old parlor that I refer to as my office in this renovated carriage house with an expression of determination. My suspicion that this visit will be less-than-enjoyable is becoming more and more apparent when I take in her rigid appearance.

"Rosalie." I smile warmly and rise from my desk chair, striding toward her, right hand out to shake hers. "What a pleasant - "

"Cut the shit, Cullen." Rose arches a brow and keeps one arm stiff at her side, jingling her keys. The other clutches the strap of her Louis Vuitton. "I'm not here for a social call."

"Fair enough." I nod, tilt my head, and place my hands in my pockets, trying to appear casual and relaxed, of which I am neither. "What can I do for you, then?"

"Make it up to her or I'll kill you." Rose doesn't mince words.

_So… Bella told her about me._

Part of me wishes this wasn't about Bella. I think I'd be more comfortable discussing Royce. At least I've had more than a decade to consider my feelings about that situation.

"Not that Bella needs some over-grown frat boy screwing with her head," Rose continues in a voice that tells me that she thinks I am total shit. "But for some bizarre reason she's ga-ga over your ass, and I just want her to be happy."

She spits the phrase "frat boy" as if it were bile in her throat.

"Rose…" I open my mouth to say the words I've wanted to say to her for more than ten years. "I'm sorry."

I want her to know that I'm sorry for what happened to her, for what I couldn't prevent, for what I couldn't redress.

Rose and I were never friends. Yet for some reason, I always felt a sense of loyalty to her. Maybe she reminded me of Tanya or Kate. I don't know.

Every guy in my house talked about Rose, but never respectfully. They thought she was beautiful, and she was constantly being objectified. Royce never defended her honor. Instead, he spoke of her as if she were a prized possession.

Royce's manner of speaking regarding Rose was unseemly. Deep inside the recesses of his mind, he thought of her as a trinket, an accessory. I never guessed that his disregard for her was so depraved.

"Listen," she states with a venomous glare. "I don't give a rat's ass what you think of me, Cullen. But I promise you, if you hurt that girl? I will hunt you down and have your head on a stick outside my fucking condo."

_What I think of her?_

"Rose." I start toward her, reaching out. "I don't think ill of you. I could never-"

She takes a step back away from me and looks like she wants to hit me. I realize my mistake: I've insulted her. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.

"Let me start over." I hold up my hands in surrender. "I want you to know that I wish I could've done more for you back at Northwestern. I am not sorry _for_ you, Rose. I'm sorry that I couldn't _do more_ for you."

Rose appears to consider what I've said before relaxing slightly and exhaling deeply.

"Okay," she nods in acceptance. "Do you want to do something for me now?"

"Anything," I answer without hesitation. "Name it."

"Come clean," she states simply. "Give Bella the details about Tanya and Delia."

I remember that Rose met Tanya and Emmett when they visited me at Northwestern, so I shouldn't be confused about how she discovered that I married Tanya, nor how she knows about Delia. I suppose all Rose would have to do is make a few phone calls to sorority sisters and she could know my social security number.

What confuses me is that Rose seems to _not_ know that Tanya and I are separated. She can call her sorority sisters but she can't call Eric?

"Tanya and I are separated." I don't know why I have to explain this to her. "Delia is with Tanya in Chicago until-"

"Yes, yes," Rose rolls her eyes and waves her hand in dismissal. "I know the whole sad story. And now, so does Bella.

"Wait." I shake my head because she couldn't mean what I think she means. "When did Bella learn that Tanya and I are separated?"

"Saturday," Rose says flippantly, and now _she_ looks confused. "Our friend Peter told her. Evidently another friend, Eric, did some digging-"

"Eric didn't do any digging, Rose!" I raise my voice in disbelief. "I fucking told him. Bella was sitting right there! I told him Tuesday, the night I _met_ Bella."

Rose and I stand and stare at each other, pieces falling into place, until she scoffs, rolls her eyes and shakes her head. A dry, mirthless laugh escapes lips.

"What is so funny?!" The humor of this situation escapes me.

"It's like a fucking sitcom." Rose is chuckling at me like I'm mentally challenged. "You didn't tell _her_, you told her gay buddy. You thought he'd tell her, and he didn't, so now…"

Rose mock-shrugs, "Oops! Whacky miscommunication!"

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

I've been torturing myself for days, thinking that Bella was afraid of me or ashamed of what we did.

Normally I have to brush women off, draw clear boundaries. The one time I actually want to see one again, she rejects me. I've felt like a fool, and all along her hesitation with me, and subsequent rejection, was due to the fact that she thought I was happily married. She thought we didn't have a chance.

So she learns that I'm separated, and now her best friend is here asking me to "make it up to her". I have no idea what to expect when Bella actually accepts my call, but whatever it takes, I'll do it, if it means I can see her again.

"How do I get her to talk to me?" I ask the air, because I'm sure that Rose isn't planning to give me any hints or tips on how to pass this quiz, and so far, I'm failing Bella Swan 101.

Rose sobers at my question. She contemplates her next words, crafting a response. She inhales deeply before surprising me.

"I'll see what I can do." Her expression is steadfast, and it tells me that she loves and respects Bella more than she does almost anyone else in the world.

We hold each other's gaze for a brief moment before she says she has to go. We're silent as I escort her to the exit.

"So, yeah." Rose straightens her strap over her shoulder and shuffles her keys. "If you want to do something for me, that's it."

"I care for her, you know," I quietly inform her.

"I know you do." She rolls her head from side to side, and I hear the tension pop in her neck. "That's why I know you can fix this."


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: These chapter is Jacob's POV.**

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

JPOV – July 2008

"Why don't you start by telling me why you're here?" Laurie kicks her feet casually up onto her leather footrest and folds her hands in her lap.

She knows why we're here. I mean, why the frick else would we be here? Rose gave Laurie's number to Bella, because Bella's on a kick about us "having problems".

Bella sighs and looks down at her feet and neither of us says anything for a long time. I'm drumming my fingers on the armrest of the chair that I'm sitting in. It's super comfortable. I'll have to see if Bella wants to get some of these for the living room.

"Okay," Laurie tilts her head. "How about you tell me what was going on the day you emailed me, Bella?"

I roll my head in Bella's direction, thinking that we still have forty-five minutes before we can hook up with Paul and Emily at the Double Dog, where I manage the bar. We serve $5 burgers on Wednesdays.

Bella shifts in her chair and looks uncomfortable.

_Hm. Maybe she doesn't like the chairs as much as I do._

"I was tired," Bella sighs and shakes her head. "I'm just… so fucking tired all the time."

That seems like a totally inappropriate answer to the shrink's question about why we're here. I'm surprised at Bella's reaction, because she's usually pretty perceptive.

"Bells," I lean over and rub her shoulder. "We don't have to stay out late tonight, but I think the doc wants to know _why we're here_. Then we can go. K?"

Bella turns her head to face me, sighs, and rolls her eyes.

"Can you say more about 'being tired', Bella?" Laurie uncrosses her ankles and brings her knees up, feet balancing on the edge of the footrest.

I don't really understand why a marriage counselor wants to talk to Bella about her sleeping habits. I know she doesn't sleep most nights, but I don't know what that's got to do with our "problems".

"I just feel like there's always…" Bella starts to talk again. "_So much_, and… things… just exhaust me."

Laurie nods, purses her lips, and turns to me expectantly, brow furrowed. It dawns on me that I might be one of the "things" that exhaust her.

"Are you tired of _me_, Bells?"

I know we don't always get along and we don't have the most active sex life, but I didn't think I was making her tired.

"Not… _you_…" Bella shifts in her chair again, and I realize that she probably couldn't care less about the chairs right now. "Per se... Just… everything. Ya know?"

Bella looks at me sheepishly. She's shy sometimes, and humble. She doesn't ask for much, and she doesn't usually assert herself very firmly.

"No," I shake my head. "I don't know. Define 'everything'."

"Everything" can mean a lot. It could mean that she's sick of the Republicans in the White House. It could mean she's tired of our daily grind – we eat out almost every night. "Everything" could mean that she wants to start blindfolding each other and using riding crops in the bedroom for all I know.

"Jake," Bella takes a deep breath and turns to situate herself to better see me. "I'm so glad we're here. Really, I am. But how many times have I asked for you to come with me?"

I look at her blankly, because I'm here now. What's her point?

"And now that you _are_ here?" She raises her eyebrows and the lilt of her voice. "You aren't."

"Bella," I chuckle because I don't want to be rude or demeaning, but that makes no sense. "What do you mean, 'I'm here, but not'? I'm _here_."

I shrug and laugh good-naturedly. I look to Laurie for support. Laurie smiles at me encouragingly, and I look back to Bella.

"If we're going to fix this," Bella looks at me with that serious expression she's been using whenever we talk about 'us'. "You have to commit, Jake."

"Bells," I'm confused again. "I did commit. We have the papers to prove it."

Bella growls and throws her head back. She's so pissed off at me all the time, anymore. I just wish I could calm her down.

All I've ever wanted to do was make her happy. She was always carrying the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders. I just wanted to make things lighter for her.

I used to be able to do that. Bella used to laugh with me a lot. We had some good times. She once told me that she felt like I brought her things she never even knew she needed and wanted. Now all she does is bitch.

"Jacob!" she yells, which is nothing new. "I am not talking about a marriage license. I am talking about committing to fix. this. mess."

She glares at me long and hard, and I stare back at her. I shoot Laurie an apologetic look, and she nods to me in encouragement.

"Jacob," Bella sighs again. "If we're going to fix this, we have to accept some things as fact."

My gaze slowly returns to Bella. I've heard this before, but in front of an audience, it all sounds new and different than it has the last few times she's yelled it at me.

"We've both grown so much, Jake." Bella sounds sad. "And we can either walk away from this, or we can try to see if we still fit. But pretending we're the same people and shoving ourselves into the same mold every fucking day is not an option. I'm not the girl you met back at ASU. You're not the same boy…"

"So, what?" I laugh dryly. "You're just giving up?"

"No!" She's pissed again. "No, Jake. I'm telling you that if we have a chance to salvage this marriage, we have to respect that we've both changed and try to fix the gaps."

Over the next several months, Bella and I meet with Laurie once a week. Bella doesn't shout as much, and I start listening a little more.

I learn a lot about myself, like that I'm sometimes judgmental and have a tendency to manipulate situations to my liking. I learn that in trying to lighten Bella's load, I have instead "infantilized" her.

I also learn that I may give Bella things that she never thought she needed, but I don't ever give her what she wants. Of course, she never asks.

One afternoon with Laurie, Bella and I are discussing our household duties like cooking and doing laundry. Bella suggests that she manages most of the day-to-day stuff, and I don't argue. But then she adds that she'd rather just do it right the first time than have to re-do it.

"Well," I shrug and mumble. "It all goes back to your martyr complex…"

"Oh, Jesus…" Bella sighs. "For the bajillionth time, I do not seek out pain on the sly. He thinks because I enjoy getting tattoos that I like pain and therefore am the 'suffering in silence' type. Huge leap."

She directs the last statement to Laurie and rolls her eyes.

"Well," Laurie responds. "There are two sides to every story, right? What's your side, Bella?"

I sit and wait for Bella to answer. She pauses. Her brow furrows, and her voice is quiet when she speaks.

"It's not that simple."

I think that laundry and dirty dishes are both pretty simple. I'm not really sure what's complicated about it.

"Can you explain?" Laurie asks, tilting her head and taking a big swig of water from her bottle of Fiji.

"I dunno," Bella fidgets with the cuffs of her sweater. "I feel stupid saying it out loud… It's like the feeling is so intense. It feels like what's going on inside my head, the chaos… It's the physical manifestation of it all. The feeling of it… it's just so… _pure_ and undeniable. There is no way in Hell that it isn't happening, you know? There's no mistaking the feeling of a needle grinding into your skin."

Bella looks at me wide-eyed, tears on the rims. She's talking about tattoos. I thought we were still talking about housework.

"I'd never felt anything like it before. Nothing had ever been so real…"

I remember that day like it was yesterday. She was nervous, but she'd wanted a tattoo since I met her. She had yet to get one, because she knew her dad wouldn't approve. So I told her that I'd take her to my guy. I'd be there right by her side.

_Several months before, Bella had decided that she wanted a Virgo symbol she found online for her first tattoo. Then about three weeks before the appointment, she settled on getting it on the inside of her left wrist._

"_Are you sure about that Bells?" I cringed, because I didn't like arm tattoos on girls. "Why not get it on your lower back or your hip?"_

_Bella shrugged. "I just kinda feel like every girl does that. Besides, you have one on your inner wrist."_

"_Yeah, but-" I stopped myself from finishing my sentence, because Bella would think I was being sexist. "Ah, I dunno, Bells… How about your shoulder blade?"_

_She thought about that for a while and then she nodded. Thankfully, she agreed the shoulder was a better place._

_The day of her appointment, she was riled all day long. I couldn't understand it. I don't think I'd ever seen her so excited. Not even the last time I took her to Florida to see her mom._

"_Okay," Bella bounced in her seat as we drove to Volturri, where my regular guy, Felix, had a chair. "So. He said it should only take about thirty minutes once they get the stencil done and placed and all that… Oh my god! I'm soooo excited, Jake!"_

"_I can tell," I chuckled. "But try to calm down. The tat's gonna give you an adrenaline rush as it is."_

_She kept on and on until we got to the shop, but once we got inside she was strangely calm and quiet._

_When she sat down in Felix's chair, I was slightly concerned, because her behavior had changed so drastically since we got there. I kept a close eye on her. I didn't want her to pass out or anything._

_Felix told her that he'd be talking to her, checking in with her. He told her that if she needed a break or felt light headed at any time, to just let him know and they'd take a break._

_When he started up the gun and the music got just a little bit louder, Bella's face lit up like a mother fucking Christmas tree. At first I thought she was scared, and then he started touching her with the needle, pressing black ink into her skin._

"_Ung," Bella rolled and then closed her eyes._

_I came out of my seat and onto my feet, as Felix pulled the needle back._

"_Doin' okay?" Felix asked her, and I crossed the floor in three strides._

"_Yeah," Bella breathed and didn't open her eyes. "Don't stop…"_

_Felix nodded and went back to work._

"_Bella," I commanded. "If you're gonna be sick or something, you have to tell-"_

"_No." A wry smile spread across Bella's face as Felix's needle dug into her shoulder blade. She looked… relieved. Satisfied. Comfortable._

_She opened her eyes to look at me and slowly shook her head. "I'm not gonna be sick, Jake. I'm good. I swear."_

_I was dumfounded. The sweet, quiet girl I thought I knew so well was getting off on getting inked._

Nothing had ever been so real for her. The pain made it real.

"I'm sorry, Bells…" I hear my voice, a whisper.

For the past eight years, I protected Bella the best way I knew how. But I also encouraged her to do new things, like start her own business. When I met her, she was timid and quiet, and kind of a doormat. I'd like to think that I contributed to bringing Bella out of her shell.

I thought she needed a leader, a guide. And maybe she did at one time, but she's a big girl now.

I have no idea what she means by "chaos in her head". It scares the shit out of me and makes me feel inadequate and just so… wrong for her.

Bella is quiet at dinner. She's drained from our session. I don't want to drag this out anymore, so I say what I have to say.

"I think I'll crash at Paul's for a while until we get some things figured out."

She doesn't say a word. She just shoves a cherry tomato around her plate with a fork and slowly nods her head. When her eyes meet mine, they are red and swollen and just fucking tired.

"K." Her little voice is so hoarse from her tears, and her eyes are filling up again.

"K." I'm quiet as I collect our dinner plates full of food that we haven't eaten.

July 2009

Bella is on her way to my house to put the finishing touches on our divorce papers. We've had, like, eight of these "final" meetings to wrap this crap up. The process involves a little more work than we thought it would.

I sigh heavily, a habit I picked up from Bella years ago, and realize that it does actually relieve some tension and frustration. Not all, but a little.

Bella and I tried therapy. Nine months later, we filed for divorce. Now, she has her own little studio, and my high school sweetheart is moving in with me.

Leah thinks I'm not any different than I was in high school. She thinks Bella and I just made a mistake getting married, but I don't agree. Bella grew up, and so did I.

"Hey." I hear my screen door smack closed and her voice behind me, as I organize our paperwork.

I turn around and notice that she hasn't been sleeping again. She has dark circles under her eyes and her top lip is chapped from licking and chewing it.

I nod. "How was the benefit?"

She shrugs, yawns, and shuffles to the coffee maker to pour a cup of French Roast. She hangs that weird, rubbery O loves M bag over the back of her chair and plops down.

"It was good, I guess."

I'm annoyed that the only time she's willing to talk about herself it's either self-deprecating to the extreme, or downplaying her success and how she positively affects people's lives.

"Rose was awesome, as usual," she picks at the bag of sunflower seeds on my kitchen table. "We really didn't have a lot of challenges last night. It was pretty seamless."

Leah's little brother, Seth, works for the caterers who did Bella's event last night. When he got home, he told Leah and I that the chef fucked up the dessert.

Bella didn't even flinch. She dug through the freezer at the hotel and found several tubs of vanilla ice cream, gave Seth and Embry her credit card, and told them to go to the supermarket and buy every ice cream topping they could find.

When it came time to announce that the menu was "slightly modified" not one person questioned Bella's calm and smiling exterior. Every single guest was tickled with the folksy, little presentation of dessert.

"Bells," I sit next to her at the table and sip my coffee. "Seth told me about dessert. You got a buncha Richie Riches in formal wear to scarf down ice cream sundaes."

She shrugs again and claims that it's just part of the job, and that's why they pay her the "big bucks".

"Seth also mentioned you had a date last week," I carefully broach the topic after fifteen minutes of plowing through document after document of financials, assets, and commodities.

Bella's hands drop to the table and she closes her eyes. "Fucking Eric…"

"Yeah." I purse my lips and wonder why I brought it up, because it's not like I want to talk about Bella's love life. At all.

I'm glad for her. I really am. It's about time for her to meet someone. I have Leah, her dad has Joyce, and her mom has Phil. There is no reason for Bella to be alone.

"It's complicated." Bella opens her eyes again and starts initialing sections with her gel pen.

"Always is, Bells." I tilt my head as I watch her chew on her upper lip in concentration.

I slide an old tube of her Carmex across the table, and she does a double take before looking at me awkwardly. She carries lip balm in every jacket pocket and bag that she owns, but Carmex is something she only uses when she's really stressed and her lips are really chapped.

"Thanks," she murmurs as she unscrews the cap and smears the greasy mess all over her lips. "I've been looking for this…"

I nod and focus again on the paperwork.

"So." I stack the papers and toss my pen on top. "I'll have Sue validate these, or whatever she does with that stamp thing. Then I'll drop them at the courthouse."

"K," Bella nods and looks thoughtful.

"Jake?" She chews her top lip. "Do you think I overreact?"

I pause for a moment, because I'd like to try to put the skills I learned in therapy into motion and be the friend she needs.

"I don't know what you're asking for sure." I sigh. "But I wouldn't say you _overreact,_ necessarily."

She looks at me expectantly, and I have to choose my words wisely. I'd like to get through today without pissing Bella off like I usually do.

"It's not so much an overreaction, but more like, intensity." I explain.

"Yeah." She looks contrite. "We talked about this with Laurie…"

I once brought up in session how Bella would get mad about whatever and "yell" at me. And when she would "yell", I'd tune her out. And when I would tune her out, her thoughts would spin, and she'd create all kinds of scenarios in her head about what I thought of her.

In the end, I should have listened, and Bella should have clearly stated her needs to me. But that never happened.

"Well." I take a deep breath. "Remember when Laurie said you have to learn how to say things out loud, even if you think it sounds selfish or silly?"

Bella nods and I breathe a sigh of relief. I honestly thought she'd launch into one of her "Jesus Christ, Jake. I'm not a child" rants.

"Why do you ask?" I nudge her knee with my fist, like we're 'talking buddies'. "Did something happen last night?"

Bella looks apprehensive, but thoughtful. She's thinking about telling me something revealing. She used to get this look on her face a lot when we were in therapy.

"Rose and I were talking about Edward…" She shrugs and fiddles with her pen. "She said I was overreacting. That he may have a good reason for not telling me he's separated."

_Who is Edward? A donor?_

"I don't know…" She doodles with a pen, while I'm afraid to ask too many questions, because she always said that I don't 'just listen' when she needs it. "Maybe he does have a good reason, but I think that'd be the number one thing you'd tell a person before… spending the night with her. Especially if you really _do_ want to see her again."

I want to be her friend right now – listen, support her – but I think she's telling me that some married guy lied to her, and then she slept with him. I should be used to Bella surprising the shit out of me, but I'm not.

Bella slept with a married man. And she's telling me about it.

_Use your words. Take a deep breath…_

"Bella." I close my eyes and clench my fists, trying to remember what I learned in therapy. "Help me understand… Who is Edward?"

"The guy I met the other night." Bella duhs. "We were justtalking about him Jake."

"Okay…" I take another deep breath and look her in the eyes, to be clear. "So… Edward was your date. And he's separated, but didn't tell you."

"Yes." She nods and rolls her eyes. "Thanks for joining this hour of 'The Bold and the Bella'… Never mind. I need to stop obsessing about this."

She stands to gather her things, and I hold up my hand to stop her from leaving in a huff.

"Wait, Bells." I speak as calmly as possible. "I'm listening. And I'd like to help you, if you'll let me."

Bella gives me the most incredulous 'you have got to be kidding me' look. I've never asked permission to help her before. It was something she always wanted me to do…

"Okay." She settles back into her seat and sighs before she continues telling me things that I don't want to hear, but that she needs to tell me. "Rose and Renee both think I'm overreacting. They think I should talk to him. Both of them say – "

"What?" I encourage her. "You don't think you should talk to him?"

"It's not that…" She looks down at her hands in her lap. "I just feel so… _stupid_. Like at first… I didn't know why he'd want me. And then I was like, 'well, he wants a side thing.' And then I was like, 'he's separated?!' You know what I mean?"

I have no idea what she means. I never do. But I nod and pat her hands, trying to comfort her and myself, because she's talking about having an affair like it's the new black.

"Can I get you some more coffee while we talk?" I offer and stand to pour myself another cup, and she nods.

"He called me at the office." She accepts the cup from me. "I guess he must've had his assistant look me up in the Yellow Pages."

"What did he say when he called?" I ask, not so much caring what he said, just wanting to be there for her and let her talk it out.

She tells me that he called her, that it was awkward, that he asked her to lunch, that she was mortified, that she hung up on him, and then Peter called.

She exhausts me. I can never stay focused on her rambling. I love her, and everyone has important things to say, but fuck. I can't keep up with her.

"So then I hung up on Peter, and I know I do that a lot, you bitch about it all the time, but I was freaked." Her eyes are wide and angry. "He can't tell me he's separated? I mean, I don't think that's out of line. 'Hey, I'd really like to put my penis inside you. By the way, it's not cheating, because I'm separated.' See? Not so hard."

I stifle a cringe and my instinct to scream and hunt this fucker down to kick his sorry ass. And why the fuck is she telling me all this again?

"So." I shake my head to clear my thoughts. "Have you talked to him since?"

"No." She sighs. "I 'spose I could call him, I have his card… Or go to his office. I just feel so stupid, ya know?"

"Don't feel stupid, Bells." I squeeze her hand a few times, because she always says that, and it isn't true. "Where's his office?"

"Main Street," she answers. "He's an attorney. He's got the old, pink carriage house on West Main?"

"Wait…" I stop squeezing. "Edward? Like Edward Cullen? As in Denali and Cullen?"

"Yeah." She furrows her brow and pulls her hand from my grip and shakes it. "Jesus, Jake. You cut off my circulation. What's your hang up with Edward?"

Edward Cullen is the blood sucking creep who's trying to take away Embry's land. That fucker has thrown every law in the book at him. Embry grew up on that land! He and his dad built that house with their bare hands.

"No hang up, Bells." I stand up and clear our coffee cups. "I just recognize the name. He's, uh… working on some of the new developments in town?"

_Do not piss her off. Do not piss her off._

"Yeah." Bella looks confused. "Do you know him or something?"

She's prying, poking, just like she used to. She's trying to get a rise out of me, and I'm not going to bite.

"He's working on a deal with Embry." I shrug and lean back against the sink. "I don't really know him, no… Hey, so… we're done here, right?"

She still looks startled and a little uncomfortable, but she stands again and adjusts her bag over her shoulder.

"Yeah." She stares for a beat before heading toward the door to leave. "Okay, so. Cool. Let me know if there's… anything else?"

I nod and say goodbye as I usher her out the door.

As I'm filing away our financials and sealing the envelope with our divorce papers, I realize how symbolic that was – Bella and I had a typical moment of stunted communication with no resolution, just like every day of our marriage. This on the day we signed our divorce papers.

I sigh with relief to know that it's over and that we can move on with our lives.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"Come again?" I blink and feel my face contort into a glare of disbelief and skepticism.

"I think you should hear him out." Rose sips her margarita, and adjusts her enormous, black Dior frames on her face.

"Is this about me overreacting again?" I ask, because I don't understand why Rose is condoning me giving Edward a chance all of a sudden. "Because I fully admit that I may have reacted a bit… strongly to the initial news that he lied to me-"

"He didn't _lie_, Bella." Rose rolls her eyes at my choice of the words. "Stop being so dramatic."

I check for the spirit glue that is surely the source of security for the Rosalie Hale mask, which is covering the face of whomever it is I'm talking to right now.

"I'm being cautious." I munch on a chip that is loaded with salsa and talk around it. "Besides, I thought you were 'no fan of Edward Cullen'."

"I wouldn't use the word 'fan', I would simply say that I think he deserves a second chance." Rose licks a bit of salt from the rim of her glass. "That is all."

"I agree." Peter jumps in, babbling about "the hotness" and "that voice" and "those hands".

"I am very aware of the hands," I snap at Peter from across the table. Peter swats Eye-Rolling Rose in the arm before crumbling into giggles. "Trust me. If the hands were the only element to consider, I'd be doing more than hearing him out."

"B," Rose says, propping her elbows upon our regular Happy Hour patio table that is made of wrought iron and is now covered in tortilla chips, salsa, and tequila. "I'm not saying to spread 'em. I'm just saying, listen to what he has to say."

She's right. I should listen to him; give him a chance. It's only fair, and it can't hurt. But he scares the shit out of me. I'm so used to intimidating Jake until he just backs down. While I fully realize I left Jake for a reason, I don't know if I'm ready for what Edward has to offer.

"You're right," I agree and nod to our server, when she asks if I want another Dos Equis. "It can't hurt."

"Great!" Peter exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "Now that we have that settled, we can move on to more important things, like dick size. How big is it, Izz?"

Peter sets his elbows on the edge of the table and nestles his chin in his hands, expressing great interest. Rose rolls her eyes and flags our server down for more salsa.

"I didn't measure his dick, Pete."

"Well." Peter rolls a hand between us, encouraging me to say more. "Comparatively speaking. Big? Small? Average? What?"

I gape at him. Rose's shoulders start to bob up and down, like a Flintstone when they laugh. She has one hand over her mouth, and she's shaking her head.

"Comparatively speaking?" I use my 'argumentative' voice. "I have two people and a grand total of 87 experiences to compare him to. So… I don't think I can answer that with any level of expertise."

"It doesn't matter." Rose chuckles, shrugs, and pretends to come to my rescue. "Bella alluded to the fact that he had… technique. Or at least stamina, which is very important."

"Rosalie Hale." Peter rolls his eyes and lightly slaps a hand to the table. "Do not start with the 'it's not the size that matters' bullshit, because you and I both know that is never the case. Unfortunately, Izzy does not know this to be fact. And I'm sorry for that, Izz."

Peter launches into a soliloquy about the male form in relation to its ability to give pleasure with, "Honey, Jacob is a fine specimen, but, really. What is it, three inches? I mean, Mr. Cullen has to have brought _something_ to the table, is all I'm saying…"

I feel my eyes narrow with distrust. There is no way that Peter knows the size of Jacob's penis. I have a feeling these two _might_ be goading me, but I can't be _quite_ sure... Bitches.

"Big, okay?" I whisper, and they both look at me expectantly. "I don't know how big, because I didn't bust out the measuring tape. But it was bigger than I remember… penises to be."

Rose and Peter are both fully aware that until last Tuesday/Wednesday, it had been a year since I had seen male genitalia in the flesh and in action. Jake and I pretty much kept it to Valentine's Day, birthdays, and anniversaries. And sometimes New Year's Day, if we were feeling amorous.

"Woot!" Peter shouts and makes a referee's sign of a goal. "Pay up, Hale!"

Rose scoffs and drags a twenty off the table, handing it to Peter as she sneers, "I wouldn't call that a confirmation, Jackson. All she said was 'big'. For all we know, Jake _does_ have three-inches down there. Comparatively speaking…"

"See?" Peter pockets the twenty and coos in my direction, patting my hand and ignoring Rose completely. "Was that so hard? Ooh! I bet it waaaas. Heheheheheh…"

He is such a pervert.

Monday night is laundry night. Well, Monday and any other night I can't shove any more into my tiny, cedar-framed laundry bag.

Back at my studio, I strip out of my jeans and slip my bra out from under my tank top. I dig through my chest of drawers and find an old pair of Jake's boxers that I've worn on laundry night since I was in college.

I open my iTunes and choose the playlist I listen to when I'm home alone, cleaning or cooking. The first song is Cherry Cola by Eagles of Death Metal. Baby Duck is hotter than hot, and I love his heavy-handed drumming. Also, Boots cracks my shit up.

My inside door is standing open, and my screen door is locked to keep the drunk idiots out of my apartment. The evening sun is streaming through the screen, and Angel is lolling lazily in the doorway. I shimmy around my dinky living space folding the clean and dry laundry and dump the second and last load into the dryer.

The knock on my door scares the bejeezus out of me as Sarah Borges sings about living life in stereo. I gasp out loud, proving that no matter how many of those stupid Friday the 13th movies I endured as a teen, I will never be immune to even the littlest "boo".

"HOLY Mary, Mother of God!" I clasp my hand to my throat and turn to the door, but I'm not consoled, because what I see is equally as terrifying as anything Jason ever threatened.

"Pray for us sinners," Edward smirks and leans an arm on the doorframe. "Can I come in?"

_Fuck._

He's wearing Ray Bans, a black, v-neck t-shirt, and button fly jeans. I prefer aviator lenses on guys, but the button fly jeans more than make up for it. Lord, help me.

"Once the invitation occurs, the vampire is always welcome..." I mumble as he slips his sunglasses off of his face.

He blinks, cocks his head, and clenches his jaw in thought before replying, "If you're more comfortable, we can talk outside. I'm not here to take advantage of you, Bella."

I shuffle to the door and flip the lock open before retreating to the couch, where stacks of clean clothes are piled. I start to put them away, hearing the doorknob twist and Edward enter the studio.

Angel arches his back, stretching and pawing at Edward's pant leg. He shakes his little black head and his bells jingle merrily as the crystals on his collar sparkle over the walls.

"Hey, little guy." Edward's voice is soft as he stoops to scratch Angel's fuzzy head.

The sight is adorable, because I'm a total sucker for how fucking cute my cat is. Edward isn't too tough to look at, either.

"He gives kitty butts," I mumble, listening to Angel's little motor purr, and watching him rub his face all over Edward's hands.

Yeah, I don't blame you, little dude.

"Kitty butts?" Edward looks up, mouth slack, brow furrowed, before he kneels all the way to the floor. "You mean, like head butts?"

I nod as I shove panties and shorts into a drawer, and Edward bends further toward Angel. Angel gives Edward a little kitty butt.

Edward must have some kind of mystical pheromone that he sprays all over himself before he leaves his house. Or, maybe it's Axe. It's freakish how I react to him. Part of me is still mad as Hell at him for not telling me that he was separated, and the other part just wants to throw him down.

I approach him and Angel, and Edward smiles. I pick up Angel and head into the kitchen to get him some crunchies. Edward follows me and I ask him if I can get him anything to drink.

"Sure," he replies with a shrug. "Whatever you have is fine."

It's nice that he qualified that, because I was just thinking about running out for some Cristal. What an egotistical…

_Calm down, Bella. Hear him out._

The music has switched to Placebo, but I turn down the volume on my Air Tunes and grab a couple bottles of Stella from my fridge, before pulling out the stools from my pub table. As Edward pops the tops off the beers, Angel is chomping happily on his seafood Temptations.

"I'd like to apologize..." Edward looks me in the eyes and hands me a bottle. "For the confusion regarding my marital status."

I scoff.

"There may not have been so much 'confusion' if you had just told me instead of, or in addition to, Eric."

"That's true." He nods and concedes. "But, in my defense, I thought you heard me tell Eric. I hadn't even been introduced to you before he started quizzing me about my ring."

"Ah, yes," I roll my eyes and mock-grin. "The ring… So, tell me, Mr. Cullen, if you are in fact separated, why still wear your ring?"

Edward looks thoughtful for a long moment, pursed lips and furrowed brow. He picks at his label and gnaws on his bottom lip.

EPOV

_Why am I still wearing my ring?_

Just as I was ready to ask her why the hell she would go home with a married man, Bella asked me a very legitimate question, for which I should have an answer ready. I should know this, but I've never had to explain my ring to anyone, because it was just a symbol.

To me, the ring was hope that the marriage Tanya and I built could be something more. To all of the random one-night stands, it meant that I was unavailable for anything long-term or serious.

"I don't have an answer to that," I reply and watch her sip her beer. "I could say that it's complicated, but maybe I underestimated its significance. It was just a prop. The whole thing was a farce."

"A farce?" Bella's expression is incredulous. "That's a glowing testimonial for the sanctity of marriage if there ever was one."

"You're kidding, right? You're spewing diatribe about my disregard for the sanctity of marriage when you brought a married man home with you to spend the night."

"I told you," she whispers and moves to get away from our conversation. "I had never done anything like that before."

I watch her squirm in her seat, her face turning red. I didn't come here to make her regret what we did. I wanted to talk things out, because we needed to have this conversation a week ago, before we fucked on her hardwood floor. But now, she's trying to avoid this again.

"I'm sorry." I back off a little, trying to keep her focus on what needs to be said. "I believe you, Bella. I tried to make a point, and I failed. My point is, we both did some things and assumed some things…"

She looks up at me through her lashes. Her face is red with embarrassment and anger.

"Bella, I should have told you I was married, but separated," I confess as I take a deep breath, because I don't know what she knows exactly. "So… now I'm telling you. My wife and I are separated. We have a daughter, who is not biologically mine. I don't know when we'll file for divorce, but it will happen."

She is thoughtful, playing with the silver chains dangling from her delicate wrist. I lean in close and grasp her hand in mine.

"Please believe me when I say, I'm sorry," I mutter and stroke her wrist as she struggles in my hold. "I want to make it right, and I want to see if we can go anywhere with this."

Bella looks up at me and juts out her chin. She still looks a little angry. I can deal with anger, but I don't want her to be ashamed.

"Bella," I pull her close to me and whisper in her ear. "Tell me what I can do."

She stiffens in my embrace, and her breath is warm on my cheek.

"Take the ring off." Her voice low and ardent in my ear.

I don't understand why she cares about the ring. I told her it didn't mean anything to me.

"Why does the ring matter, Bella?" I pull away from her face and shake my head in confusion. "I told you… I will divorce her."

"You asked, and I'm telling." Her expression is fierce. "I want… you to take off your ring."

She holds my gaze and I hold her hand for what seems like an eternity. Then slowly, I let go of her wrist, sit upright, and slip off my ring.

I haven't taken it off since Tanya pushed it onto my finger that sunny Saturday afternoon in May of 2006. I look down at the faint tan line and wiggle the fingers on my left hand. The platinum band drops from my right hand to the tabletop, bouncing off the marble and rolling to the floor.

A wedding band is a symbol. It holds power, if you let it. But Tanya and I never had anything to be sealed tight with that band. The ring was just an accessory.

The realization hits me like a tidal wave, washing over me. I feel a little bit dazed. And then… exhilarated.

My eyes come to rest on Bella as she watches with utter fascination while the ring rolls, and then spins like a top. Once it stills on the hardwood, she slowly turns her gaze to me. She's breathing heavy, and her eyes are hooded. She slips from her barstool and positions herself between my knees before pulling me into a hard and wet kiss.

BPOV

The rush I feel is powerful. It's like getting a tattoo, only better. I asked Edward for something that I wanted, and he gave it to me. Fuck me, but that was hot. Now, I'm kissing him for reasons that I can't explain. Other than, as previously mentioned, I am a giant whore and he is Satan.

Satan slides his lanky frame from his perch on the barstool and backs me up against the refrigerator with his hands on my hips. His fingers work their way under the hem of my tank top in the front, and then down the back waistband of my shorts. He drags a hand up my torso and shoves it into my messy hair. I piled it on top my head with an elastic band, but he's weaving his long fingers under the band, squeezing my scalp.

"We're done talking?" I mumble into his neck.

"For now," he breathes and sucks my earlobe into his mouth.

"Good," I breathe and shiver and shake. "Because I want you to come in my mouth."

Edward whimpers before sinking his teeth into the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He swipes his tongue over the skin he's pulled between his teeth and hisses, "So good…"

My hand is in his pants, hot and hard. I still don't understand this, but I'm done trying. It's human nature. This feeling is older than civilization. It's ancient. Who am I to question it?

I yank the buttons of his fly open and shove his jeans down his legs as I drop to my knees. Just six days ago, he was in a similar position. I owe him one. Fuck, I think I owe him two at this point.

I settle on my haunches and lick my lips. I hear him groan, and I look up. He's braced his elbows backwards on the pub table, and he's looking down at me. I grasp him at the base and lick the tip of his cock. He groans and jerks lightly.

Maybe someday I'll stop being completely dumfounded by sucking Edward off. For now, I pull him fully inside, swirl my tongue around, and bask in the sensation of him in my mouth, thick and salty and warm.

My arms are wrapped around his hips and he's panting and grunting. He jams a hand into my hair and braces another on the refrigerator door. I can feel him hitting the back of my throat, so I relax my muscles and take him all the way.

Who knew I could deep throat? I sure as hell did not. Until I met Edward Cullen.

Edward comes in record time, silently. I feel pretty fucking talented. But then again, a blowjob is a blowjob.

"We need to close your door." Edward is grinning as he pulls me to my feet, and removes his feet from his shoes and jeans. "What is it with us fucking with your door standing open?"

I giggle as he spins me around and backs me toward the couch, gently pushing me down to the cushions. I lie back and enjoy the view as he strides to the door and slams it shut. Turning back to me, he pulls his t-shirt over his head and dives on top of me on the couch.

"Off," Edward commands as he jerks my tank top over my head and nudges my boxers and panties over my hips. He's laughing and so am I. This moment is so right.

We still have a lot to talk about. Like, what did he mean by seeing if we could 'make something out of this'? I love the way he makes me feel, but I don't know much else about him other than he's a carnivore with a diverse taste in music and likes the color red.

Before I can have too many more serious thoughts, his fucktastic fingers are tracing my labia and he's kissing and licking my nipples. I want him to bite them.

"Bite..." I whisper. "Bite me, Edward."

I have always been so apprehensive to declare what I want, especially in bed. I usually just get it for myself. Maybe asking him to ditch the ring gave me a boost of confidence. Which is cool, because he seems to really dig my dirty talking.

Biting, licking, sucking, grinding his hips into mine…

His grip is tight on the backs of my thighs as he brings my knees up to my chest and pushes himself down my body to fuck me with his tongue.

"Fuck," I whine and grab the couch's armrest behind my head.

The song changes to Wandering Star. Having Edward dominate me with his hands and fuck me with his tongue while Portishead plays in the background? Unparalleled hotness.

Tongue inside, swirling around, then around my clit… Back inside hot, wet, and thick.

Edward sits up and tucks my leg over the back of the couch and says, "Stay," before pressing his thumb beside my clit and three fingers inside me.

"Come on, Bella." He grits through his teeth, fucking me hard with his hand.

I know I'll be bruised again. His fingers are so deep inside me, that his knuckles are grinding my slick lips as his thumb lightly rubs my clit. God, I love this…

"Edward, I want…" I hesitate. He might like the vampy foreplay, but I don't know if he wants me to say 'cock' or 'dick' or what.

"What?" Edward is still holding me open with one hand and fucking me with the other, but now he's standing with one knee between my thighs on the couch and one foot on the floor.

I let go of the arm of the couch and reach forward to touch the object of my affection.

"Say it." He pulls his fingers from inside me and stops me from touching him with his wet fingers. "Say it, Bella, or you won't get it."

He's feral and intense, and he's got that look like he wants to eat me alive.

"I want your… cock." My voice is hoarse and shy, and I'm breathing heavy. Edward groans, bites his bottom lip, and I'm pretty sure I see him… twitch.

_'Cock' it is._

He releases my thigh and my hand, before reaching for his jeans. Thankfully, my apartment is the approximate size of a shoebox, so he can just reach out and grab them from the kitchen. He pulls a condom from the back pocket and rips the package open.

"Come here, baby." Edward takes me by the hand as he sits back into the couch like he's getting ready to watch football highlights on a television that I don't own.

I watch him roll the condom over his hard cock. It is one of the sexiest things I've ever seen. Edward should go to sex ed. classes for high school students and third world countries to teach them proper condom application. There is no way they would ever forget the sight before my eyes.

EPOV

"Come on, Bella." I pat my thigh and tug her by the hand, beckoning. "Be a good girl and get on top."

I love watching her blush. She's timid and inexperienced, but definitely desirous. Having sex with Bella is so much more real than it's ever been with anybody else. I love the way she makes me feel, and I love learning more about her body and her mind.

Bella straddles me and braces her hands on the back of the couch. I frame her hips with my hands and slip inside her slowly.

Somewhere along the line, most of Bella's hair has come out of its tie. Her hair is one of her best features, dark and wavy and wild. It's covering one breast just barely. I reach up a hand to lightly tweak her nipple and she hisses.

"You set the pace, Bella." My hands encircle her perfect tits, and I want to know her body inside and out. "Just feel it. Show me how you like it."

She grinds her hips down and then squeezes as she pulls up, slow and tight. Her head is back and her hands are on my chest. She seems to be pushing me away. I wrap my fingers around her wrists and let her fall back to balance mid-air.

We're joined at the groin and she's floating and moaning and riding me. I can feel her tightening and I'm about to pop. Her body is glistening with sweat, her chest is heaving, her hair hanging behind her.

"Oh, god…" She's coming. I can feel her quake and shiver.

"Yes." I hiss. "Fuck me hard, Bella."

She slams down a few more times, clamping, squeezing, and I come just after her. I slowly pull her to my chest. She's breathing heavy, sniffling, like she just ran a marathon.

"Holy shit," is all she says as her sweaty little forehead drops to my shoulder, and I stroke her back and her hips.

We sit like that for a few minutes, catching our breath, exploring and appreciating each other's bodies. Finally, Bella pulls up and pulls me out. I discard of the condom in a Kleenex from the end table.

"Where did you get this?" Bella runs a finger across the scar on my hip from the time I went down the well to get a lost toy. I always thought it was odd that Tanya never noticed I was bleeding that day. Hell, she never even asked what the scar was a few years later, when she gave me my first blowjob.

"I was rappelling down a well to retrieve a toy." I stroke her hair, her head lying on my shoulder once again. "My foot slipped and I swung. My hip hit the wall and there was a hook, or something… I don't know, I couldn't really see, it was dark."

"Oh my god!" Bella's head shoots up, and she looks shocked and sympathetic. "Did you have to have stitches?"

"Yeah. Thirty-two." I chuckle, remembering how angry my dad was when I told him the fabricated story of Emmett and I wrestling, and me rolling onto a garden tool. "Luckily, my dad's a doctor. I had to have a tetanus shot, too. It sucked."

"Whose toy was it?" Bella strokes my hair to comfort me for something that happened over a quarter century ago.

"Tanya's." I bite my lip and think it feels strangely gratifying to tell someone that story. It's been my and Emmett's little secret, much to his annoyance, since that day. "Or, rather, her sister's… She wasn't supposed to be playing with it, and then she lost it down the well. She started crying. I had to get it for her."

Bella's brow furrows as she looks into my eyes with compassion and confusion. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I enjoy the scrape of her fingertips on my scalp.

"Who's Tanya?" Bella's voice is quiet and thoughtful.

_Way to ruin a moment, Cullen. Bring up 'the wife'._

I sigh and tell Bella that Tanya is my soon-to-be ex-wife, who I have watched over our entire lives. I also tell Bella about Tanya's "surprise" pregnancy after our Italy trip and my subsequent decision to marry her.

"I honestly thought that we could have something special, but I was wrong." I realize that Bella and I are still nude and I'm just laying it all out there now.

"Everybody makes mistakes," Bella mutters as she twirls a piece of her hair and looks off into space. "Edward… I haven't been completely honest with you."

"What?" I pull my legs up onto the couch to sit cross-legged and instinctively grab a throw pillow to protect my package. I have no idea what she's about to say, and I just want to be prepared.

"I just signed my divorce papers on Sunday."

I stare at her for several seconds before the irony of the situation finally dawns on me. And then, I start to laugh.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

As Edward sits butt naked on my couch in post-coital laughter, I have to wonder if I've chosen the absolute best time to tell him about my omission.

It didn't even occur to me until Edward started spilling the beans about Tanya's conniving ways and how he's always taken care of her, that Jacob kind of did the same thing for me. Not that I conned Jacob into marrying me, but still...

And then, I remember that I didn't tell Edward about Jacob. At all. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

"Please tell me this is ironic laughter, and not the laughter of bitter anger and resentment." I bite my top lip as I often do when I'm nervous, bracing myself for the storm.

"No." Edward shakes his head and smirks, discarding the pillow and pulling me into his lap. "I'm not mad, Bella. I'm just laughing because it's par for the course for us, you know?"

He's all warm and cozy as he pulls the throw from my lap and wraps it around us both. As I settle into his body, I'm naked and slick against his skin. It should be gross, but it's totally not.

"It's just…" I try to explain to Edward's chest that Jake and I had nothing approaching a marriage, ever. "Jake and I weren't like a married couple. I mean we never even got real rings. We were good friends… we still are. But the passion just wasn't there."

Edward's chest rises and falls evenly as he draws circles on my bare shoulder with his long, warm fingers. Even though I don't tell him about my parents' failed marriage, or my lying, cheating High School "sweetheart", I feel like Edward understands me completely.

"We'd been together… forever it seemed." I murmur. "We thought it was time to start a family. And I never knew anything else really, because Jacob was my only real boyfriend. It started to dawn on me a few years ago that something was missing. We tried therapy, but all that did was drive the point home."

Edward is tracing lazy patterns on my back, and I'm getting turned on while I tell my story of fail. He is Satan, I swear it.

"So here I am," I sigh. "Divorced and not even thirty-years-old. Nice, huh? I don't even have kids or a house to show for it."

Edward chuckles lightly, and I'm thankful that he knows I'm joking. He hums into my hair and runs his nose up the length of my jaw, making me shiver.

"Well…" His voice is quiet, smooth, silk, and his breath caresses my temple. "You have your whole life ahead of you, Bella Swan. What will you do next?"

Being with Edward, isn't what some people would consider as important as a career choice, huge and life changing. But I've never felt so safe and sure. I'd like to answer that I aspire to be _his_, but I can't put it into words. So I kiss him instead.

I kiss him slow and long. He responds languidly, licking and sucking on my top lip, paying special attention to that spot I always chew on, the spot that's usually chapped.

He drags his hands all over my body for long minutes, before I pull him to stand. I shove the ottoman out of the way, pull the comforter from inside the ottoman, and unfold my futon. This has been an exhausting evening.

I realize that it may be unhealthy to compare Edward to Jacob, but I'm going to do it anyway.

After an especially tiring therapy session with Jacob, I didn't even want to see him for at least twenty-four hours. After having what amounts to a professional therapy session with Edward, I fuck him senseless and want to crawl into his lap and sleep for days.

I see Edward grab the pillows from the ottoman, without being asked, and I flop down onto the mattress. He tosses the pillows to the head of the bed and then climbs on all fours over me for another kiss.

I touch him everywhere; his jaw, his neck, spending some quality time with his bangin' torso… He's scruffy, but soft. And even though he's totally naked, his treasure trail makes me giddy with anticipation. I dig my fingers in with gusto.

After what seems like hours of just kissing and touching, Edward moves to his side and reaches for the second condom he brought. He kneels between my thighs and rolls the condom onto his shaft. I tease him about always being Boy Scout prepared. And then he slides his fingers up and down my slit, teasing me about always being prepared.

He drops his forearm to one side of my face as he guides himself inside me with his other hand. I lift my knees and spread my legs wider. And, oh god… I'm so _full_.

He's gentle, but intense as always. I thought what set him apart was the way he talked to me, and how… hard he gave it to me. I love that. But I love this, too.

He makes love to me, and I realize that I have never been made love to. Not like this. I have never felt so cherished.

He's all the way in and all the way out, every time. And I can feel every inch of him, slow and hard as he touches me inside and out.

He whispers my name, kisses my lips, and he owns me – body and soul. When he tells me to come for him, I don't hesitate.

My hands are raised above my head and flattened to the pillows by one of his hands. He grasps one of my hips and we are forehead to forehead. The release of pressure feels like it's been building for a hundred years.

I cry out and clench his hips between my thighs. I hear my name in his voice. My bones are jelly, and I'm out of breath. I feel like crying.

"I want…" I breathe heavy. "You to stay with me."

Edward pulls out of my body, but doesn't let me go. He brings me on top of him, kisses my face and says, "Where else am I going to go?"

EPOV

I have no intention of leaving Bella anytime soon. I want to protect her, keep her safe. We made some breakthroughs tonight, talked about a lot of important things, but we still have a ways to go.

She apologized for marrying someone she once loved. I don't need an apology from her, but she seems to need to give it. I will try to give her the room to do what she needs to do, but the apologies will have to stop.

When she mentioned therapy, I experienced a brief moment of guilt for never suggesting that Tanya and I go see someone. And then I remembered that no amount of therapy could change that Tanya and I had no business being married in the first place.

I listen to Bella mumble and whimper in her sleep. "Edward…" she sighs and rolls into me. I breathe and push her hair away from her face.

I realize she fell asleep almost immediately after we made love. She didn't make a trip to the bathroom, like she usually does. And as much as I love her hair splayed out like piles of silk, I know she'd rather it was pulled back as she slept.

"Baby…" I mumble as quietly as I possibly can in her ear, nuzzling her pretty face. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Bella inhales softly through her nose and rolls to her back, stretching, with an expression of satisfaction that makes me feel like a motherfucking king.

Her eyes flutter open and she looks confused for a moment, then shy, embarrassed. As much as I don't want her to be embarrassed, I love the way she looks all the time.

"Sorry to wake you." I smile and run my fingers around the shell of her ear and down the side of her throat. "I just thought maybe you should go before you slept all night."

Bella looks thoughtful before she nods and yawns. She wiggles her way out of my hold and from under the sheets, shuffles into some flip flops, pulls a t-shirt over her head, and wanders to the bathroom.

"Hurry back," I call after her retreating form, and she smirks.

I roll out of the bed for a drink. Bella has about one million bottles of Fiji Water in her refrigerator. I have no idea what that's about, but I'm going to take it as a sign that I should not drink from her tap.

I hear the flush of water and the squeak of the faucet in the bathroom as I settle back into the mattress and pillows on Bella's futon. She emerges looking sleepy and sweet with her hair piled on top of her head.

She crawls into bed, warm and cozy, making little kitten sounds, her eyes half-closed.

"Water?" I offer her a bottle, and she accepts. She unscrews the cap and takes a few delicate pulls from the bottle before recapping it and gingerly placing it on her desk next to her side of the bed.

She reaches over and shuts her laptop, effectively ending the musical accompaniment to our evening. Then she flips toward me motioning that she wants me to lie down. Bella snuggles her warm, soft body into my side, slipping a hand between my legs.

I think it takes her about ninety seconds before she's snoring softly into my chest, with my cock in her hand.

When the sun breaks through the Roman shade covering Bella's big picture window, I groan and stretch. Bella grumbles and pulls the comforter over her head before rolling onto her side with her back to me. I know that I have to get to the office before seven-thirty. And I'm sure Bella has a full day ahead of her as well.

"Baby?" I whisper and run my finger down her exposed spine. "I gotta run… I have a meeting…"

Bella grunts and curls into a tight fetal position. I feel my face split into a grin. I tuck the comforter around her and get out of bed to search for her phone. I don't see anything resembling an alarm clock anywhere in her living space, so I'm going to assume if she sets an alarm it's on her phone.

I quickly use her bathroom to relieve myself and freshen up enough to not look like I spent the night in my girlfriend's dorm room. I pull on my jeans and t-shirt and shove my feet into my trainers. I'd really like to get a run in, but it's going on six-thirty, so I just don't have the time.

Before leaving Bella's apartment, I find her phone on her desk and remember that I still don't have her cell phone number, dammit. So I dial my number on her little Centro, and my iPhone buzzes in my pocket.

Next to her phone is a pad of paper. I scrawl a quick note, lay her phone on the pad, and kiss her goodbye before walking out the door and to my car. I parked just a few blocks away from Bella's place. Ben Cheney, I guy I knew from undergrad, owns the seventeen-room lodge where I park when I come downtown.

Ben was a good guy in college – focused, smart, and honest. I met his "lady love" yesterday – that's actually what he called her - who is a tall, slender, stunning woman, who is clearly taken with Ben's fine qualities as a human being. They are an inspiration. They remind me of my mother and Pops.

As I drive the two miles to my house on Willoughby Way, I appreciate the amazing Forks morning. I've always been a morning person, but the mountain morning sun is magic.

When I get to my house, Emmett is on his bike trainer. I don't know why he prefers to ride his bike on a trainer in front of the television, when he could be biking Independence Pass or Maroon Creek Road toward the Bells. Then I hear him shout, "Take _that_ Armstrong!"

He's "racing" Lance Armstrong with one of his training videos. Maybe when Lance gets back from Tour de France, we can grab a beer with him.

"Kick his ass, Em!" I exclaim as I begin to make my way up the stairs to my suite for a shower.

"Hey, man!" Emmett slows his cadence and twists his body to watch me. "You're just getting in?"

I halt on the third step and nod. "We talked some things out, yeah."

"She was receptive, then?" Emmett keeps peddling, but he's slowed significantly and paused the video. "Figuratively speaking, of course…"

"Figuratively and literally." I mumble, morphing into a guy who kisses and tells.

"Whoa!" Emmett puts his hands over his ears. "I do not need to hear all the juicy, fleshy details to that one… Unless you're offering… Heheheh. But, uh, I am glad to hear you made some progress. You know what I always say, there's nothin' a little lovin' can't cure."

I chuckle and shake my head as I make my way to my rooms.

I strip my clothes off and climb into the shower. When I moved here, I was told that steam showers are essential for comfort and health in a climate as dry as this. I am more than pleased that Jasper installed this beauty here.

To be honest, I've been more than pleased with most of my experiences with this home. Although, if I were to stick around here for any length of time, I would consider buying some land, a ranch maybe.

By seven-fifteen, Emmett and I are at my desk getting ready for the conference call. I told Jessica not to bother coming in until her regular start time of nine o'clock, so we're alone in my offices.

Emmett has perused the documents and is asking me questions about the La Push land when my phone trills.

"He's early," I state, and we both glare at the phone before I answer. "Hello, this Edward Cullen. Yes. Yes, and I'd like to put you on speaker, if you don't mind… Good."

I push the speakerphone button, and Emmett pulls his chair closer to the conference table.

"Alright…" I sigh. "Can you hear me, Mr. Call?"

"Yeah, I can hear you…" Embry Call's voice is distant and somewhat hostile. We danced around the transfer of his land for several weeks.

The Call estate went into foreclosure six months ago, with three mortgages against it. I do not enjoy kicking a person out of their childhood home, but Denali and Cullen did him a favor really.

"Good." I nod to Emmett. "Embry, Emmett McCarty is in my office this morning."

"Good morning, Embry," Emmett pipes in.

"Hey…" Emmett's friendly nature is hard to deny, but under these circumstances, Embry isn't looking to make friends.

"Now that introductions are out of the way," I begin to sift through the development plans that Emmett and Jasper have proposed. "I'd like to discuss a few ideas with you-"

"Actually," Embry interrupts. "I have a… consultant here with me."

"This outta be good…" Emmett mumbles under his breathe and stands to fill his mug with more coffee.

Embry has fought me tooth and nail on the transfer. But I guarantee if the bank that owned the mortgages still owned this property, they wouldn't be asking Embry's opinion on what to do with the land.

"A consultant?" My curiosity is piqued. Emmett brings the carafe to the table and offers me a refill. I shake my head and cover my cup with my hand. "What kind of consultant?"

BPOV

I am not what one would call a "morning person". I mean it's really beautiful here and everything, but seriously. Some days I just want to stay in my warm, cozy bed and not have to talk to anyone.

Edward left a little before six-thirty. I am so lazy, I didn't even say goodbye when he kissed me. To be honest, part of me was afraid to wake up. I was afraid it was all a dream.

Reluctantly, I roll out of bed, shake and fold my comforter, and replace my bedding inside the ottoman. I pull the sheet from the futon, toss the sheet in the laundry, and fold up the futon for the day.

My futon fits into a little alcove in which I have built a façade that serves as a headboard at night, but is concealed by the back of the futon during the day. The headboard sits just below a matted and framed print of _The Kiss_. My bed mirrors my big red couch, with two other identically treated Klimt prints, _Virgin_ and _Expectation_, positioned above it.

My tribute to Gustav Klimt spans a whopping thirty-square-feet. So folding up the futon is necessary if I don't want to walk on my couch.

My phone plays the acoustic version of Everlong as my morning alarm, but I'm already up-and-at-em. I reach for my phone to switch off the alarm and notice a note underneath.

_Dinner later? I have your number now, and I'm not afraid to use it…_

_- E_

I wish I was a teenager again and still had that shoebox I used to use to keep notes in that my friends gave me at school. I would totally keep this note forever if that were the case. But for now, I just lay it on the pub table, from where his fucking business card mocked me all last week. Now I can stare at his note every time I walk by to go to the bathroom.

I use the toilet, retie my hair, pull on my running clothes, stick my ear buds in my ears, and fire up my iPod. I run to a NIN mix that I've modified over the years, but have used for my morning run since I was able to make mix CDs.

After my run, I cram myself into my little shower stall. I so miss Jake's and my shower from the house. It wasn't anything spectacular, but it was about twice the size of this one.

I think about Edward as I massage my neck, belly, and thighs with a soapy, coconut and apricot scented loofah. Edward's hands are large and so much rougher than mine. They're beautiful to look at, but callused and manly to the touch.

I have about a billion errands to run this morning. I'm so glad I don't need to be in the office today. Although I do plan to stop by just to check our mailbox and return some calls. But first, I'm headed to the Animal Shelter for my weekly dog walk.

"Bella!" Seth calls from behind the counter as my favorite girl trots toward me. "Kita's been waiting for you…"

Kita is a Rottweiler/German Shepard mix. It's such a shame that so many people are scared of her. She is the sweetest, most beautiful dog I have ever known. If I could have a dog where I lived, I would adopt Kita in a heartbeat. But Seth isn't too eager to get rid of her anyway, because she's such a big help with the less socialized and more aggressive dogs that come into the shelter.

"Hi, baby girl!" I coo and drop to my knees for nuzzles and licks. "How's my good girl? Are you ready to go?"

Kita prances and spins around, because "ready to go" is one of her favorite phrases.

"Okay," I sigh and stand to clip the leash that Seth hands me to Kita's collar. "We're going downvalley for a Target run and a walk in the canyon. I'll have her back before you close. I have a _date_ tonight…"

"Go, Bella!" Seth wags his eyebrows. His sister may be a supreme pain in the ass, but he's a sweetheart and we have always gotten along very well. As a matter of fact, I even get along with their mother, when she visits once a month from their small town in Arizona.

"Oh, hey… Let me know if you want that spa certificate for Sue," I say before exiting the shelter. "I know that Leah would rather I stuck it up my ass, but your mother deserves some pampering. Plus, I can't really use it right now, and it's going to expire."

"K," Seth replies with a smirk and a nod. "Thanks, Bella. Have fun today. And you know, you can keep her over night if you want. I won't tell your landlord."

My landlord is a douche. He's also Seth's boss for catering gigs and the asshat who fucked up my dessert menu at my last event.

"Yeah, well…" I roll my eyes and turn to walk out the door. "I would rather not give him any ammunition, but thanks for the offer."

Seth chuckles good-naturedly, because he knows what a prick Riley can be, and he waves goodbye as Kita and I head out for Girl Time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"Well, um…" Embry Call stammers around my question of "what kind of consultant?" before another voice interrupts.

"Let me handle this, Embry." I hear the second voice muffled, before speaking clearly into the phone. "Cullen, my name is Jacob Black. The Calls are close personal friends of my family's and mine. I've spent a lot of summer months working on that land. I'm here today to be sure that Embry doesn't get screwed in this… _deal_."

I inhale deeply through my nose, calming, soothing. I glance at Emmett as he takes his seat. His eyebrows are hiked so far up his forehead that I fear they might disappear into his hairline. Emmett shakes his head and takes a large gulp of his coffee.

"I assure you, Mr. Black," I begin to answer his challenge. "I have no intention of screwing anyone here."

I shouldn't be surprised at this maneuver, but there is absolutely nothing I can do about the fact that Embry and his family have not put that land to use for more than ten years.

He's racked up almost ten million dollars in debt against a piece of land that is worth less than half that. The projects that he, and probably this asshole "consultant" of his, started in order to make money tanked. They were pipe dreams with no substantive structure or vision. Within the last five years, he invested in and abandoned four very costly and poorly planned projects.

"I don't know your intentions, Cullen." Jacob Black's voice is wry, hard. "But I intend to keep my promise to the Calls. And to this community. We have enough timeshare-bullshit-condos and pseudo-hippie crap in this town. I'm here to make sure the Call land is honored, its integrity maintained."

I take another deep breath before speaking.

"Why don't we talk about some of the plans we've put together? Mr. McCarty and his firm have a range of ideas based on previous conversations between Mr. Call's attorney and myself."

The rest of our conversation proceeds in the same manner. Emmett presents five ideas for development, all of which offer ample opportunity for Embry to be involved, and all of which will bolster city revenue. As expected, Jacob Black is hostile, negative, and resistant to change.

We end the conversation with an agreement to meet in person to review the physical plans for the three options that Embry and Jacob don't hate. Our next meeting will have to wait until I return from Chicago in August, but that will give Emmett time to modify the plans a bit and for me to gather some intel on our new friend.

Jessica arrives to the office around nine o'clock and Emmett takes his leave around ten. It is almost lunchtime when I finally break down and pick up my iPhone to text Bella about dinner.

_hi... did you get my note?_

I think about the way she looked when I left. She was all rumpled and pouty and sexy. I wanted to roll her onto her stomach and slip between her thighs, make her moan and whimper like she did last night. But I restrained myself.

Within minutes, my phone chirps with a text from Bella.

_hi! yes, i read your note. but i don't recall giving you my number, mr. cullen. have you been sneaking around behind my back?_

She's teasing me. I feel my lips curl into a smirk before I respond.

_there are a lot of things i'd like to do behind your back, ms. Swan, but none of them would be on the sly. you'd be very aware of all of them._

Several minutes pass and I don't receive a response from Bella. Yes, I want to check in with her about dinner, but part of me also wants to test her will, just a little bit. Seems I've accomplished that task. Right now she's weighing her options on how to respond. I bet she's chewing on her lip, twirling a lock of her silky-soft hair, and scrunching her brow.

Finally, I hear a chirp.

_wht kinds of things?_

I have hit paydirt. Bella has chosen to play. She wants to hear what I have to say, so I'm going to give it to her.

_remember the first night we were together? on your floor? you were on your hands and knees, bella. i like you like that… but i also like thinking about you bent over my dining table, skirt hiked over you pretty, little ass. dinner at my place tonight? i'll make lasagna._

I tap to send and seconds later, her response comes.

_what time? and where?_

I smile with satisfaction. She does like the dirty talk. I make a mental note to send Emmett somewhere for the night. Maybe Jas and Alice will take him in.

_7:30. 865 willoughby way. wear the red pumps._

Twenty seconds later, I receive…

_yes, sir._

I stare at my phone, wondering if Bella realizes what she's just implied. I'm sure she didn't mean what my cock thinks she meant. I'm sure she was just being cheeky. But it was sweet and arousing and totally Bella.

BPOV

"Kita!" I call across the park and clap my hands, before frantically stuffing poop bags from the dispenser into my Timbuk2 bag. "Let's go, princess!"

Kita trots up to me and I clip her leash to her collar. She's a puller, but I forgot to bring her no-pull harness, so she keeps hacking and coughing from the pressure on her larynx.

"Slow down, sissy." I stop and crouch down to talk to her. "We're not in a rush. We're going back to Forks, we'll have a bath on the balcony, and you'll go home to all your friends."

As we make our way to my Jeep, I'm in a daze over the sexting with Edward. He said he wanted to bend me over his dining room table. He asked that I wear my red pumps to his house tonight. And then, I called him "sir".

I feel like I'm masquerading as some kind of sex goddess. What the fuck am I thinking saying things like "yes, sir" in a sexual situation? I have no idea…

"Hop up," I chirp to Kita, and she hops into the back of my truck. I release her leash and toss it to the floor before shutting the back door and climbing into the front.

_I'll just have to… have a talk with him. That's all. I'll go over there for dinner and we'll clear the air. Yes._

As I drive the 40-minutes back to Forks, I watch Kita in my rearview mirror and I think about what it'd be like to have her with me every day. I have everything I need to take care of her. I just don't have a place for her.

_I hate Riley._

The drive flies by quickly, and once we get back to my place, I give Kita a bath. She loves getting a bath, running around shaking and hopping. And when she's all wet like that, she looks like I imagine she did as a puppy. So cute.

After I drop Kita back at the shelter, I stop at the Club for a yoga session. I shower and moisturize there to save a little time and thank whoever invented the concept of waxing as hair removal, because I don't have time to shave.

I screech through my door at about ten after seven, slop some product into my hair, blow dry, and swipe mascara through my lashes and lip gloss onto my lips. I select my stringiest v-string, which is studded with tiny crystals and forgo a bra altogether, because the black, jersey-knit halter dress I've picked out has a built in bra.

Once I'm dressed, including the requested footwear, I grab my straw bag to toss my evening necessities into it. It occurs to me that I may be spending the night with Edward, so I toss in my travel toothbrush for good measure as I head out the door.

I park my car a few blocks away from my apartment, so I walk to my car, and then drive to Edward's place. He lives on Willoughby Way, where the average price of a home is approximately ten million dollars. I've been to a lot of events up there, but never thought I'd be going there for a personal call. Weird.

I drive up Edward's car park and leave my truck next to a giant boulder creating what amounts to a motherfucking Jeep ad. Before I can reach the ostentatious entrance to Edward's home, he opens the heavy, wooden door.

_Unf._

Edward is wearing jeans – those fucking button fly jeans – and a long-sleeved, black, linen button down that fits like a tailor sewed it on him. His shirt isn't tucked in, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and he's barefoot.

"Bella." His voice pours over me like hot fudge – warm, thick, sweet – and his eyes roam my body hungrily. "You look beautiful. How was your day?"

_Day? What's a day?_

To be honest, I forgot I even had a day. I think I even forgot that I existed for a minute. I got lost somewhere between his fly and his damp, disheveled hair. Somewhere around his predatory smirk and licking of his lips.

"Thanks…" I respond awkwardly, because I don't know how to amply thank Edward for his compliment. I don't know what he means by 'beautiful'. "My day was… good. How was yours?"

He reaches for my hand and pulls it to his mouth. He smiles at me softly, sweetly, before lightly kissing my knuckles. He doesn't break eye contact as his breath tickles my skin.

"Better now that you're here." Edward draws me inside and closes the door behind me. He still hasn't let go of my hand, and he's looking right into my eyes. "Can I get you anything? Glass of wine, perhaps?"

"Wine would be great, thanks." I nod as we walk down a wide, stone hallway, toward an amazing smell that makes my mouth water.

"Did you really make lasagna?" I attempt to lilt my voice, trying to sound light.

Edward furrows his brow and scoffs, "Yeah."

He squeezes my hand before letting it go, and then crosses the open kitchen floor to a small rack of wine on the far counter. He spins a few bottles on the rack, pursing his lips.

After a quick perusal, he pulls a bottle off the rack and asks, "Malbec?"

"Malbec's good." I nod and set my bag on the floor before settling onto a stool in front of the island in the middle of the room. I wish I wasn't so freakin' nervous. I wish I didn't always have to be such a _girl_.

"I'm no wine expert," Edward states, as he screws the cork out of the neck of the bottle. "But I like Malbec. And the weight and tannin in this one should complement the lasagna quite nicely."

He carries the bottle in one hand and two goblets in the other. He sets a glass in front of me, and I watch his face as he pours just a sip, and then encourages me to sample it.

I roll my eyes at his formality, and he smirks in return. Then I realize that he's playing with me, flirting, and I start to feel that anxiety ramp up again.

I sip the inky, robust liquid and then blurt, "You know I was just joking around with the 'sir' thing this afternoon, right? I mean I don't know what came over me. I was just… playing."

Edward's eyes widen and then narrow, brow furrowed. He sets the bottle down and bites his bottom lip, tilts his head, studying me. His expression softens into something less predatory and more nurturing.

He rounds the island and closes the distance between us. I spin my stool to face him, and he leans sideways on the counter. Edward reaches out and strokes my bare arm with one of his big, warm hands.

"Honestly, Bella…" He looks thoughtfully into my lap, where I'm wringing my hands. "It's okay. We're just learning each other."

He's right, but I'm still scared shitless. I've never been good at dating. Other guys, besides Jacob, complained that I was frigid, or closed off. I don't want to be that way with Edward, but I don't know how to relax. It's just so fucking hard.

I brace myself as we both look up from my nervous hands. I look into his eyes and am instantly calmed.

"But I will say this," Edward stands upright and takes my hands in his. "You can trust me, Bella. Completely. I never intend to hurt you, I promise you that."

EPOV

I ask Bella to trust me, and I promise not to hurt her. I don't know how we went from talking about text misunderstandings to me pledging my devotion to her, but that's just the way things go with Bella and I.

"Wow," Bella whispers and chuckles nervously, squirming in her seat. "That was… a mouthful."

"I'm not trying to make you nervous." She pulls a hand from mine and focuses on her wine glass, spinning it and watching the legs of the liquid trail down the inside of the glass. "I just want to be honest with you right away."

Bella meets my gaze, and her expression is a wary one. "Okay. I appreciate that." She shrugs, but doesn't say anything more.

"Okay," I agree and settle her hands in her lap. "Enough with the serious talk, huh? Let's eat."

Bella grins and hops off the barstool before asking, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," I answer and grab my glass and the bottle of Malbec off the counter, motioning for her to follow me. "Everything's set out here in the dining room."

Bella follows me to the large mahogany table. I place the bottle between her and my place settings, and my glass next to my plate. Bella starts to pull out her chair and I assist.

I decide to test the waters again. I don't know what went wrong with the texting, whether I crossed a line or if it was her own insecurity.

"Thank you for wearing the shoes," I speak softly into her ear from behind her chair while reaching around her body for the bottle of wine. As I fill her glass, I inhale her vanilla and cherry scent.

She shivers in response to my words and the fact that I am behind her. I see her flush and hear her breathing shudder. I'll consider this test a success until she tells me otherwise.

I replace the bottle and take my seat beside her before digging into the salad I have prepared on our plates.

"So…" Bella lifts her fork and picks at her salad. "How was work? Or can't you talk about it?"

Her eyes shift, and I reassure her that I can talk about it to a certain extent. She nods with relief and slips a fork full of spinach and cranberries into her mouth, moaning in approval.

I try not to think about what I'd really like to slip into her mouth before continuing our conversation. "It was a long day. Started with an early conference call with a guy I'm working with to redevelop his family's land."

I take a sip of wine and watch her do the same. She tilts her head in interest, encouraging me to resume my storytelling.

"Kind of sad, really. He accumulated so much debt on this place that it went into foreclosure. Denali & Cullen bought the mortgage from the bank and assumed the debt. Now we have to make our money back, and we can, but his buddy's kind of standing in the way-"

"Embry Call?" Bella halts her fork halfway to her mouth, eyes wide.

"Yeah," I answer, as I mix my dressing into my salad. I know I shouldn't give her any details, but this is a small town. The odds of Bella not knowing the people I do business with are slim to none. "Do you know him?"

Bella nods and bites her lip. She furrows her brow and pushes her spinach around her plate as she mumbles, "He's a friend of my ex-husband's."

Her ex-husband. Whose name is Jacob.

I start to laugh, not unlike I did last night when Bella first told me she just signed her divorce papers. The irony that both instances have occurred within the last 24-hours and that they both deal with Jacob Black is not lost on me.

"Your ex is Jacob Black," I state rather than ask, as I prop an elbow on the table and my forehead in my hand. "And he's Embry's 'consultant'."

I shake my head and chuckle.

"Consultant?" Bella looks confused and a little bit insulted. "Jacob's a bartender. He doesn't consult anybody on anything other than the newest Irish stout."

I give her a run down of the meeting Emmett and I had with Embry and Jacob. Bella rolls her eyes a few times, but seems to relax a little once I tell her that I think we smoothed things over for the time being.

I stand and ask for her salad plate, before heading to the kitchen to dish up our lasagna.

"Well," Bella hands me her plate and watches me walk to the kitchen, where I can still easily hear her voice. "Jacob's a good guy. He's just… protective? I guess…"

"I kind of gathered that." I chuckle and set her plate down in front of her, and then take my seat with my own plate. "Good guy, but protective. Definitely."

Bella and I eat in silence for a several minutes before she praises my culinary skills. We finish up and I offer her seconds. She claims to be full, but suggests more wine.

We get up from the table and clear the dishes together. Bella starts to load the dishwasher as I search for a second bottle of wine.

"I've got a really great Vin de Paille that my mother brought back from France." I pull the bottle from the mini fridge. "How does that sound?"

"I don't know what that means," Bella shakes her head and laughs, wiping her hands on a towel. "But I trust you."

BPOV

I hope that Edward understands my double meaning when I tell him that I trust him. I want to trust him. I really do.

I watch him uncork the bottle of wine that I can't pronounce, and I am enthralled with his hands and fingers. I space out thinking about the dirty things he did to me with those very hands just last night.

Then I think about Jacob and how fucked up this situation is. It's just my luck that the guy I'm fucking is Jacob's rival in some way. Just my fucking luck.

I know that Jacob is a good guy. Still, this doesn't bode well.

Edward has poured two glasses of wine and is balancing them in one hand as he picks up the bottle and asks me to join him on the patio. We walk out through the French doors and the flames in the stone hearth lick at the crisp July night.

The sky is full of stars and the view is spectacular. Edward's patio is… sexy. If a patio can be sexy. The stone sprawls for yards and encompasses and infinity pool that overlooks the river and a hottub that could accommodate a small village.

The sight of him, barefoot, big hands cupping clear glasses full of sweet wine, firelight flickering over his skin…

_Jesus, what did he put in that lasagna?_

"Are you warm enough?" Edward asks, as I settle into a big comfy lounge chair. He glances around until his eyes land on a bench that looks like it could hide dead bodies. "I think I have a few throws in there. Can I bring one to you?"

"No," I answer and shake my head, but he's already set our glasses down and has a throw in his hands. "The fire's nice. I'm fine."

Edward nods, tosses the throw over the back of the chair, and takes a seat at my side. He hands me my glass and we toast.

"To… us?" I suggest.

_Lame. You are so lame, Swan._

"To us." He smirks, and we sip our wine.

"Wow," I exclaim. "That's really… sweet."

I don't usually like sweet wines, but, to be honest, I kind of like this one. It will forever remind me of this moment, and I definitely like this moment.

Edward's eyes darken and he smirks at me again. The fucker. He takes my glass and places both on the iron side table. When he turns back to face me, he pulls me to his chest, and kisses me without warning. It's deliberate and sensual, and one hundred percent pure Edward.

We kiss and caress, and Edward stretches across my body, gently pushing me to my back. His hands are everywhere in slow motion and with great intent. I'm breathless and totally at his mercy as we kiss.

"Bella…" I hear his voice, low and smooth, but I can't respond. "Do you remember what I told you today… about my dining table?"

_How could I forget?_

I nod, acknowledging that I do remember his text. I remember it well and fondly. In fact, barring Alzheimer's or life-threatening head trauma, I'm pretty sure I will never forget the filthy exchange I had with Edward Cullen this afternoon.

"Good," Edward breathes in my ear. "Because I'd like to enact a slight variation upon that theme. Right here on the patio."

_Oh, my…_

"I'm going to stand up," Edward tells me as he pushes himself up off of me, unfolding his lanky frame. "And I want you to do the same."

He holds out a hand to help me up.

"Now," once I'm on my feet again, he instructs, "I want you to take off your dress."

I swallow thickly, breathe heavily, and am so fucking glad that Edward owns a secluded mansion on Willoughby Way.

_Outdoor Sex rules!_

I inch my skirt up my thighs. He's watching me expectantly, brow arched, tongue flicking across his lips. He's unbuttoning his shirt slowly. So fucking slowly. He's got that look again, like he's going to eat me alive.

I pull my dress over my head and toss it on the chaise behind me.

"Good girl." Edward's voice is lethal and seductive. He stalks the two paces toward me with his shirt undone. His eyes are dark, and I'm anchored in place in a g-string and red, peep-toe pumps.

_Satan, Bella. You're about to be bent over some random flat surface on this patio and fucked by Satan. Hope you enjoy your time in Hell!_

"Turn around, baby." Edward slips his shirt off his shoulders and lets it drop to the ground, without a glance.

I turn my back to him. My body is humming, vibrating, already. I know what he's about to do, but I'm dizzy with anticipation.

"God, Bella…" I can feel his breath on my neck as he sweeps my hair to the side and breathes along my skin. "Your body… You are so fucking beautiful. So beautiful…"

His hands run down the length of my arms, then grasp my hips and massage. He trails his fingers up my back to my shoulders and he squeezes. His fingers caress my collarbone as his thumbs knead the muscles in the back of my neck.

I sigh and moan and stop myself from crumbling to the floor by grasping his denim-clad thighs behind me. I pull him close and grind his hard cock into the small of my back. It's his turn to moan, now.

"Fuck…" Edward knees the backs of my thighs, and his hands leave my neck, traveling to my back, pushing my forward. "Spread your legs and place your hands on the chair in front of you."

I do as I'm told, and my compliance earns me another "good girl" as well as a pat to my thigh. I hear fabric rustle and peek over my shoulder to see Edward unbuttoning his fly, freeing my new best friend, and pulling a tiny foil packet from his pocket.

I turn my head and feel his hands on me again. He hooks his fingers around the string at my hips, and I close my eyes and thank the Powers That Be for the gift that I am about to receive.

Crystal scraping over my hips and thighs, hands roaming up over my ass and back, hard length pushing inside…

"Yes..." Edward hisses, and I am once again overwhelmed by the sensation of him inside me. I'm suddenly aware of everything at once; the fire crackling, cool night air on my hot skin, the chafe of the cushion against my knees, the rasp of Edward's breath as he pumps me from behind.

Deep inside, hard and fast, banging that spot, that spot, that spot…

I could go on and on about how Edward affects me. His body does things to mine that I have never experienced, but have always wanted. With just one look, one quirk of his lips, I'm wet. And evidently, all he has to do is put it in me before I'm fucking gone.

"Edward…" I whine. "I can't wait… Now, please…"

EPOV

Bella doesn't have to tell me twice. I carefully slide one knee between her thighs and wrap an arm around her to prepare to touch her where she wants. I wrap her hair around my other hand and pull.

"Bella, you've been such a good girl… wearing my shoes, doing just what I ask…" I keep my voice measured and calm, but inside I'm about to fucking pop. "I bet you want to come now, don't you baby?"

"Yes," Bella whimpers. "Yes, yes, yes… I do. Please. God…"

I press down on her clit and release her hair. I want a better grip. I want to be deeper. So I grip her shoulder and ride her hard.

She clenches and shouts my name. I come with her at once, and it's magnificent. Fuck me, but I didn't think it could get any better with Bella. I stand corrected.

"Ohhhh…" Bella sighs and relaxes into the chaise as I pull out of her. I smooth a hand over her back, and tie the condom off, tossing it to the ground before joining her.

"Good?" I smile and laugh a little, because, really? Do I even have to ask?

"Do you even have to ask?" Bella chuckles lightly, eyes closed tight, pulling me close to her body. "Yes. Very."

I push her shoes off of her feet and pull the cashmere throw from the back of the chair. We cuddle and talk about nothing for the next hour. We finish our wine and Bella yawns.

"Past your bed time?" I gently stroke her hair away from her face. "I'd love for you to stay with me tonight, if you're comfortable with that."

Bella's eyes flutter open and she looks shy, then devlish, and just fucking delectable.

"Well, good." Her face splits into a huge grin. "Because I brought my toothbrush."

We both laugh as I help her up from the chaise. I wrap the blanket around her shoulders and gather our clothes and her shoes. As we pass through the kitchen, Bella snatches her bag from the floor and pads behind me, up the back staircase to my suite.

I show Bella my bathroom, so she can freshen up. Inside my dressing room, I place her shoes neatly by the door, hang her dress on a hanger on the dressing rack, toss my laundry in the hamper, and wrap our used condom in a Kleenex before tossing it in a wastebasket. Before leaving the dressing room, I pull on a pair of pajama pants and bring the matching shirt for Bella to sleep in.

When I return to my bedroom, Bella is fidgeting near the open French doors leading to my balcony, chewing on her top lip.

"I brought you something to sleep in." I hand her the shirt with a smile.

She accepts the garment with a small lift of her lips, quickly dropping the blanket and replacing it with the shirt, head down. Something happens to her inhibitions when we separate. She's suddenly shy.

As she buttons the large shirt over her small, soft frame, I move slightly closer to her. I run my lips across her forehead, barely kissing, eyes closed. Her hands rest on my chest and we stand still for a moment, touching lightly. I can feel her energy humming through me. It's intense. I… love it. It just feels right.

"Ready for bed, love?" My voice croaks, tight and dry.

Bella simply nods and I take her hand, leading her to my bed. My housekeeper turned the bed down before she left this evening, so I throw the blankets back and motion for Bella to climb in. I follow after her and we curl up to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

I awake to strong hands languidly tracing the tattoos on my back, smoothing my hair, palming my hip… Fingers over my hip and between my thighs, stroking me… Lips brushing over the skin of my neck and shoulder…

I feel a slight rush of cool air as his chest leaves me, and he's gently rolling me to my back. The bed is soft and warm, and I stretch like a cat, listening to my joints pop and my muscles groan.

It's early. Through the patio doors, I can see light in the sky, but the sun hasn't risen above the peaks yet. I arch my neck, rolling my head, pulling the pillow lightly over my eyes.

Edward climbs between my thighs and knees me open wide. I bury my head and my fists under the fluffy pillow and moan.

_Good morning…_

I hear the foil packet tear, and then his hands are on me again, spreading me, filling me, stroking deep inside…

He gently covers my body with his, enters into me, reaches under the pillow and our fingers are entwined. His knees are holding me wide, elbows holding him up, hands holding mine.

I feel his head drop to the pillow that covers my eyes, I feel his breath on my neck, and he is so close to me. We're touching everywhere.

We are one body, twisting, moaning, sliding in tandem. Everything feels new and precious, so precious.

"Uhhhn…" It's a slow build, but everything is satisfaction, everything feels like something real.

Teeth grazing my neck, collarbone, shoulders… Biting, sucking, licking.

"Come, baby," he mutters, hot and low. "Come."

* * *

"And then we fucked some more," I tell Rose, as I take a bite of my buttery, maple-covered pancakes. "Because, really? Who am I if I'm not fucking Edward Cullen?"

Edward left for Chicago this morning and I am a scattered mess. After we had our little make-up session last Monday night, we spent almost every morning and every single night combing through the annals of all things sexual in search of something that _didn't_ set us both the fuck off.

Score? Eleventy-to-zero.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?" Rose pops a greasy piece of bacon in her mouth and I almost gag from the sight. "So, you two are gifted with inserting tab 'E' into slot 'B'. That's cool. Some people have to read the directions over and over and still never get it right."

"I wish it was that simple." I shove more carby goodness into my piehole and syrup dribbles down my chin.

"What's really bothering you about this?" Rose dabs at the corners of her mouth with a napkin and eyes me seriously.

I think about my shower this morning after my run and before Edward left for the airport.

_Edward on his knees, holding me open on that little bench… My hands in his wet hair, one foot on his slick shoulder and one against the marble wall…_

"That it's just about sex?" I wonder aloud. "That this is a rebound? I don't know, but it can't be real."

"Why not?" Rose challenges me, as she will often do. "Besides, rebound? Are you kidding? Bella, you and Jacob didn't have anything to rebound from. At least, not since I've known you."

I push my plate away because I'm suddenly full, and a little bit nauseous. I wave at Rodney and point at my water glass.

"If you're scared…" Rose pushes her own plate away and clasps her hands in front of her. "I get that. But don't… disallow yourself from feeling this, B. You deserve this, whatever it is."

She can tell me I deserve it, but I don't know what it is. And I can keep taking it, but I don't know when it'll stop being offered. Edward told me that he would never intentionally hurt me, but there are no guarantees in life.

"I am scared," I admit, but that's no secret. Edward scares the living fuck out of me, and I don't hide it. "Maybe I like this too much. I mean it still all feels so… iniquitous. He still has a daughter… And this thing with Embry? I mean, maybe the draw is the danger or naughtiness of it all."

Then, I silently think to myself that even if all that isn't true, and if this is pure and chaste and _right_, what if he just takes it all away whenever he decides that he's through.

Rodney clears our plates and asks if we need anything else, and Rose tells him we just need the check. I take a deep breath and shake my head.

"Whatever." I push myself away from the table. "It is what it is, right?"

I remind Rose that it's her turn to pay, toss my napkin to the table, and wander outside in the morning sun. Down the street, I see Joey on his bike. Nina, his German Shepard, trots alongside him.

"God, Joey's such a dufus." Rose joins me on the sidewalk and we turn to walk the opposite direction. "Did you hear what he did at Double Dog last night?"

"Do I want to know?" I ask as I light a cigarette and pull my Prada shades over my eyes.

"Jacob bet him he couldn't do a shot of Tabasco, so Joey - braintrust that he is - says, 'I bet I can do _five_ shots of Tabasco, bitch. Line 'em up.'" Rose shakes her head and scoffs. "What a fucking tool. They act like children. All of the time."

I laugh at the surliness of her attitude. Rose acts like she's so annoyed with this kind of behavior, and that she's just way too cool to laugh, but deep down, she loves those idiots as much as I do.

"It's ridiculous." Rose pulls her vibrating phone from her bag. "This is Rose."

Rose and I continue to walk to our office. It's Monday morning, and we need to finalize the seating chart and flowers for the opera benefit this weekend. I usually let Rose take over the flower arrangements, because I think it makes her feel good.

My phone buzzes in my bag, and I pull it out to see a text from Edward.

_wht r u wearing?_

I roll my eyes at his blatant sexual flirtatiousness. He knows what I'm wearing, he saw me get dressed this morning. I shove my phone back in my bag without replying, but feel it buzz in my hand before I let go. I sigh and pull it back out to glance at the screen.

_sry, baby... i was just teasing. i just wntd u 2 know I'm thinkng abt u._

I think he must be a mind reader. How else could he know that I'm walking through downtown second-guessing myself and our relationship? Clearly, E.S.P. is the only answer.

_i'm thinking about you, too. I miss you already._

I feel like crying. I'm such an emotard. Back and forth, up and down; I'm a fucking human tilt-a-whirl.

I should enjoy this, whatever it is, for… whatever it is. But so much could happen to fuck it all up. What if Edward and Jacob end up mortal enemies? Or worse, what if they end up becoming buddies and swapping notes, and Edward finds out I'm a total poser? Ugh.

Rose slides her phone shut and drops it into her purse. "I love Sarah. She always _listens_ to what we want. She doesn't just bowl over the top and tell us -"

Rose stops walking, and I realize that I've heard what she was saying, but I wasn't listening at all. How ironic. I also stop, and I turn to face her, apologizing immediately.

"I'm sorry," I shake my head, hand over my heart, sincere. "I was listening…"

"No, ya weren't, B." Rose holds up a hand to stop me from proceeding with my lie of an apology. "But don't apologize."

Rose has been such a good friend to me. I feel like a total asshole for pouting around with my bullshit emotional imbalance.

"Let's sit, shall we?" Rose motions to a bench off the side of the walkway. "Look, Bella… You're spinning right now, and that's okay. You've always been in control, but you're not this time, and that's freaking you out."

"Am I being control freaky?"

"Yes." Rose nods in agreement. "You are, and you need to chill the fuck out."

"Gah!" I lean back and shove my cigarette into the gritty dirt behind our bench. "I'm like a fucking heroine addict."

"Bella, _enjoy this_." Rose ignores my melodramatic analogy. "Stop overthinking everything." She shrugs. "Let someone else drive for once."

She's referencing the hovercraft dream I had the night before last, wherein I was driving Edward to the grocery store and was pulled over by Jacob, who was some kind of Sci-Fi futuristic highway patrolman. Jacob laughed when he saw I was driving and told me to let Edward drive, because obviously I didn't know what I was doing.

"Yeah," I sigh. "I'll think about it."

Rose's phone rings again, and we stand to make our way to the office.

On Tuesday, I stop at the shelter to take Kita for a walk. I don't always have time to spend the day with her like I did last week. I love doing that, but it just isn't possible this week. Yet another reason I can't take her home with me – it'd just be cruel to keep her cooped up in my tiny apartment all day when I'm working.

"Hey, Seth!" I greet him as I walk through the doors. Sam, the founder of the kennel, is talking with a couple at the counter as Seth walks over to me and hands me Kita's leash.

"Hey, Bella." Seth kisses my cheek and Kita leans into my legs and does her little Rottie purr. "You didn't need to give her a bath, you know."

"I know." I crouch down to kiss Kita on the head, and she gives me one lick on the cheek. "But she just looks so cute when she's all wet. And she likes it."

We talk about how fuckawesome Kita is for at least five minutes until I hear a familiar voice call my name. I turn to see Alice standing with a guy who is not Jasper, but looks at me like he knows me. I'm pretty sure if I'd met him, I'd remember.

"Hi!" Alice approaches me and hugs me. "Bella, this is Emmett McCarty. He's Edward's cousin."

_Crap._

I'm a wee bit embarrassed because I've been fucking his cousin nightly for a solid week with him just two floors down and haven't met him yet.

"Hey, Emmett." I stick out my right hand for a handshake, and Emmett goes in for the bear hug.

"Bella! I feel like I know you already, sweets." Emmett's voice rumbles through my body, and he totally reminds me of Mark, my dad's deputy, who I may or may not have had a crush on my senior year in high school.

"Yeah, me too," I grunt through his crushing embrace. "Edward's told me a lot about you."

"Likewise." Emmett releases me and gives me an appraising look. "Also, I just want you to know that any woman that can keep E guessing is Grade-A in my book."

_Edward talks about me? _

Somehow this guy is under the impression that I "keep E guessing". I don't know what that means, because I think I'm pretty straightforward and boring.

"So…" I look around and see Seth and Sam warily eyeing our interaction from behind the counter. "Are you here to adopt?"

"Well, that's up to Alice," Emmett answers glancing at Alice. "She wants a dog, and I told her that adoption is the way to go, but she still wants to 'think about it'."

He rolls his eyes, using air quotes to punctuate "think about it", making me giggle a little at Alice's expense. He's good-natured and friendly, and even though he's giving Alice a hard time, she doesn't seem to be fazed by his behavior.

"What's holding you back, Alice?" In my opinion, adoption _is_ the way to go, and this is a debate that I have had time and time again with friends and with strangers.

Alice proceeds to lob me the I Want To Know the Parents and What the Puppy Will Be Like When He/She Grows Up softball. To which I reply, 1) many of the retired sled dogs that are available for adoption have papers that will tell you all about their lineage and 2) adopting an already grown dog, or a puppy that is more than a year old, will give you a pretty good idea of what their personality will be like.

Alice seems to consider what I'm saying before she nods her head and crouches to say hello to Kita. Kita proceeds to lick her face, eliciting a happy giggle from Alice and a loud guffaw from Emmett. While Alice is cooing over the awesomeness that is my little princess, Emmett suggests we grab lunch.

"Oh, I can't do lunch today." I shake my head with regret, because I genuinely like both of my new acquaintances. They in turn look disappointed. "I have an event this weekend and walking Kita is the only thing I have time to take a break for today. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Jeez." Emmett looks sideways at Alice, who nods knowingly as she stands. He shakes his head and grins, motioning to Kita. "E wasn't kidding. You're serious about what you do and what you believe in."

So, Edward _has_ talked about me. That much has been confirmed. What I don't get is, why? The bulk of Edward and my relationship is filled with sweat and grinding parts. I just hope he doesn't discuss _that_ with Emmett or Alice.

"But, yeah… Lunch tomorrow?" Emmett shrugs at Alice. "Where should we go?"

After an awkward moment where Emmett and Alice look at me with great expectations, I suggest Cantina at one o'clock. We agree to meet the next day, then we go our separate ways.

I text Edward, while Kita and I are out walking, to see if he'll own up to this business of talking about me to his friends and family.

_just met your cousin. he's a hoot. and he seems to know a lot about me…_

Edward doesn't text me back right away, which is fine. I don't need an immediate answer, and I assume he's busy with work. When I spoke to him on the phone last night, he sounded so tired.

I return Kita after a quick walk on the bike path. Seth is talking to a donor when I bring her back in, so I take it upon myself to walk her to the kennels. It seems most of the dogs are out in the yard, so I just let Kita outside.

Sam is out in the yard, and I wave to him to let him know I'm dropping Kita off. He nods curtly in my direction before turning his back on me. Whatever… Sam's never liked me. I don't know why he'd care to kiss up to me now, especially since he's no longer obliged to do so, what with me divorcing his BFF.

I return to my office just as my phone buzzes with a text from Edward.

_ah, emmett… he certainly knows how to charm the ladies. don't believe a word he says._

That seems to answer my question. Clearly, he doesn't _talk_ about me.

"Why the long face?" Rose is shuffling papers and our office is filled with the sound of Pink singing about being a rock star.

"Isn't that a punch line to a really lame joke about a horse?" I mumble as I plop my bag down on the floor and pull out my MacBook.

"You just look like Kita told you that she wanted to see other people." Rose chuckles lightly. "What's up?"

"Nothing." I open my laptop, pull up the guest list, and take the phone out of its cradle to check the RSVP line. "Kita's fine. I'm fine."

"Oookay…" Rose has told me a million times that I'm a terrible liar, but today she doesn't push.

After updating the RSVPs, clearing out our voicemail, and returning a few calls to donors about the event, I retrieve my water bottle from my bag.

"So, I met Edward's cousin today." I kick back for a minute and watch Rose take a long swig from her water bottle before proceeding to update our QuickBooks accounts.

"Hm," is all she says. I don't know where I'm going with this, but I just keep talking.

"He said that Edward talks about me."

Rose scrunches her brow, but doesn't take her eyes off her screen.

"Well, of course he talks about you." She shrugs. "Think about how much you talk about him…"

_Ugh._

I do not want to be that friend who talks about her boyfriend all the time. Especially considering he's not really my boyfriend. I mean just because we share orgasms doesn't make him my boyfriend.

I decide to stop talking about my boyfriend and get back to work, focus on something important and real. After a few minutes, Rose breaks the silence.

"Does it surprise you that he'd talk about you?" She stands and dumps a stack of papers in the recycle bin before returning to the huge table in the center of the room that serves as our joint desk and worktable.

"Kind of?" I shrug. "I guess I just don't know why he would."

"Maybe he's just as confused as you are, B." Rose perches on the side of the table, facing me. "No one is without doubt, not even Edward Cullen."

Why would a guy like Edward – beautiful, wealthy, successful lawyer and father – be plagued with doubts about me? Other than wondering why he's fucking me.

Rose is my best friend. She has so much faith in me. She and Emmett are both just trying to make me feel better about myself, and as a result, I'm "overthinking".

The next morning I engage in my regular routine; run five miles, shower, smoothie, latte. I head to the office, check our messages, and deal with all the crazies. By the time lunch rolls around, I'm starving and hungry for a veggie taco salad.

"Dude," I shout over Jack White's _Blue Orchid_ guitar riff. "I'm starving. You wanna do lunch with Alice and Emmett and me?"

Rose turns to face me, playing air guitar, bobbing her head, lip synching, and shaking her ass. We saw The Raconteurs last year at Belly Up. Rose had an… um… intimate encounter with Mr. White. I will forever hate her for it.

The song ends abruptly and Rose throws her hands in the air, fingers in the shape of V's, like an arena rock goddess. As the next track starts up, Rose drops her hands and turns down the volume on the speakers.

"Sure, I'll go with you." She shrugs, grabs her bag, closes her iTunes, and we walk out the door.

On the way to the restaurant, Rose explains that she's met Emmett several times. She tells me how he was like a little puppy dog when she and Edward were at Northwestern.

"Of course, I haven't seen him in… ten years?" Rose scoffs and makes a comment about how old she is. Rose is only four years older than I am, but she constantly draws attention to our age difference.

"Well, I thought he was kind of cute." I shrug, and it suddenly occurs to me that Emmett reminds me of Joey. "Plus, he'd fit right in with our friends."

Rose and I approach the patio of Cantina and see Alice and Emmett have already been seated. As we near the table, Emmett's face lights up. I'm pretty sure it isn't me that's getting him so excited.

"Hi guys!" I smile and set my bag near the flowerpot by our table. "Alice, you met Rose. Emmett, this is my friend and business partner, Rosalie Hale."

"Hello, lovely lady," Emmett purrs as he stands and takes Rose's hand in his. He kisses the back of her hand with the most adorable, mischievous grin on his face, and I swear I see Rose blush, just a little bit.

"Long time no see, McCarty." Rose's voice is soft, softer than I'm used to. "It's… nice to see you again."

Rose clears her throat as we sit. I briefly wonder if she's uncomfortable with Emmett – I know that blasts from the past aren't always a good thing – but then I realize her discomfort with Emmett looks a lot like how my discomfort with Edward feels, and I relax into my chair.

We order salads and margaritas, chat amicably. We talk about what brought each of us to this town and how much we like it. Emmett says that he's seriously considering buying his own place here, especially if his business takes off.

"Jas and I decided this was a great place to raise a family." Alice chirps dreamily. "Hopefully, we'll be doing that soon!"

"Congratulations." I smile broadly as I crush the tortilla shell in which my delicious salad is ensconced.

"What about you, Bella?" Alice pokes her nose where I do not want it - payback for getting all up in her biz over animal adoption. "Do you ever think about having kids?"

Rose coughs and I slap her on the back, because it's one of those fake-coughs that people do when they're trying to draw attention without drawing attention. I might smack her harder than necessary.

"Well." I pick up my margarita for a stalling sip. "My ex-husband and I just never discussed it."

Neither Emmett nor Alice blink at my reference to being divorced, they just look at me expectantly, waiting for me to lay it all out there. I'm getting the sense that secret keeping is not common amongst their kind.

"But… I don't _dislike_ children." I fidget and fumble and generally act like a nervous habit.

"Good thing, that." Emmett snorts and Alice nods that annoyingly knowing nod that seems to be her most dominant reaction to most everything. "Because Delia's coming to visit next month. I'm betting E'll want you to meet her."

_Delia. Edward's daughter. Perfect._

On Friday night, I'm getting my clothes ready for Saturday's event when Edward calls.

"What're you doing, baby?" His voice is rough and quiet, and I can hear the tension. I can also hear him smoking on the end of the line.

"I'm, uh… getting ready for tomorrow." I hang my garment bag, including gown, shoes, and jewelry, on the coat hooks by my front door. I decide to join him with a smoke across time zones and grab my pack. "You?"

"Thinking about you." He exhales loudly into the phone. "I miss you. Your voice, your laugh… Your smile, your lips... I miss watching you, touching you, fucking you."

_Wow._

I stop short of dropping my wine glass on the balcony as I exit my apartment to smoke. I reconsider going outside, because I think my neighbors already know too much about Edward and my antics. I pocket my cigarettes and head back to the privacy of my studio, making sure that my door is shut nice and tight.

"Yeah?" My voice climbs several octaves. "Well, I miss you, too." I bite my lip and start to pace, flip-flops flapping loudly in the air.

His laugh is low, soft, dangerous. "Tell me what you miss, baby."

I have no clue how to have phone sex, but Edward has introduced me to a whole host of firsts. Last week, I even played golf. So, hell, as long as I'm making an ass of myself, I might as well do it thoroughly.

"Your… hands." I close my eyes and fumble with the hem of my white beater, trying Dirty Phone Talk on for size. "I miss your hands."

"And I miss putting my hands on you." I can hear him smile over the phone line. "I miss your skin; it's like silk. You're sleek. Like a little sports car – tight curves, smooth driving…"

He says the word "driving" and I sit, right where I stand. I left my wine sitting on my windowsill ages ago. I can have a glass of Chardonnay any day, but listening to Edward talk dirty is something I do not like to miss.

"Did you know that I took a picture of you while you were sleeping before I left the other morning?"

"No," I sigh and grip the back of my neck before lying back on the floor and propping a foot up on my ottoman, running my hand down my throat and between my breasts, over my belly and hips to my knee. It should seem creepy that he took a picture of me while I was sleeping, but it doesn't – it's fucking turning me on.

"I have it on my phone. I can look at it any time I want." Edward continues and I can hear fabric rustling. It is otherwise quiet on his end of the line. "I look at it and think about how you feel."

I hear him swallow, and I do the same. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and drag my fingers up my thigh and under the leg of my pink and white pinstriped boxer shorts.

"I drove the Vanquish tonight." His voice is ragged and harsh in my ear. "Sleek, sexy, perfectly proportioned… Flawless body, confident… But she's got nothing on you, Bella."

I squeeze my thighs together trying to lessen the ache. I've been masturbating on the regular since he left town, but it just doesn't cut it. The dirty talking sports car analogies are not helping.

"I think about pushing inside you with my fingers and my cock."

_Oh my God…_

"About rolling the weight over just the right spot at the right time," Edward moans. "And you always shift just right, Bella."

I bring my other knee up and open, and my fingers are stroking lightly around my clit. I just wish he were here to help me shift.

"Thank God, I can drive a manual," I breathe into the phone.

Edward chuckle/groans, "I know you can, baby. Do it for me."

"Edward..." I whimper as I slip two fingers inside myself and press the heel of my hand over my clit, wanting him, frustrated with myself.

"Oh, fuck," Edward's voice is a low rumble, and I know that he's coming. That knowledge shoves me over the edge.

I lie in the middle of my floor, thankful for the release, but missing Edward even more. This would be about the time he'd roll us over to spoon, uttering silly stories of his youth into my hair.

I hear water running on his end and think that maybe I should get up off the floor and wash my hands. As I stand at my kitchen sink and listen to him tell me about the sweet things that Delia said after dinner while watching television, I remember that he is in his house in Chicago. He is in the house that he shares with _her_.

I realize it's super petty of me to be jealous of Tanya, but the thought of him walking around with a hard-on anywhere near her makes me a little grumpy.

Still, I laugh in all the appropriate places as he talks about his daughter. Like when he says that, she's "perfect" and that she was so "sweet and sincere" when expressing her sympathy for the cavemen in the Geico commercial.

"I didn't have the heart to try and explain ironic humor to her."

Edward seems unfazed that I am clueless about children. He's probably pleased as punch that I'm talking to him about her. Although we've talked a lot about her – well, he's talked and I've listened – I never really bring her up.

"Are you ready for your event tomorrow?" His voice is so soft, and I hear fabric rustling again. I imagine him climbing into a big, fluffy bed, and I want to crawl in with him.

"Yeah," I answer. "We've had a positive response, and I'm really looking forward to seeing _La Boheme_."

We talk a few minutes more about our weekend plans. I yawn and Edward says he should let me get some sleep. He asks me to call him tomorrow after my event, and we hang up, saying goodnight.

I love how he makes me feel. When I'm with him, we're in our safe little bubble, but the second we're outside of it… POP! I turn into Insecure Girl. And then… I don't know what bothers me more; the fact that he seems to want me, or the fear that deep down, he doesn't.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

I like watching Bella sleep. It's kind of fascinating to me. I could watch her like this forever and never get tired of it. She's peaceful and beautiful.

There is enough light from the early morning sky streaming through the doors for me to snap a quick image of her before she wakes. If she knew I was just sitting here watching her, taking pictures of her, I'm sure she'd think I was a creepy stalker.

It was raining when I greeted Bella at the door last night, and she was drenched. I pulled her inside, engulfed her in my arms, and kissed her cool, wet lips.

She was shivering as I backed her into the great room, kissing her the whole way. She burrowed into my chest as I pulled her rain jacket off and wrapped her in a wool throw. I kissed her temple before settling her down and heading for the brandy.

I took her over the arm of the sofa, because she told me we needed to stock up for my trip. Then we moved to my bedroom where Bella climbed on top of me, astride the settee, and rode me into oblivion.

By the time we made it to my bed, it was after midnight. We lay facing each other as I pulled her knee over my hip and slipped inside her one last time. It was slow and sensual, and it wasn't the first time I thought of the phrase "making love" when I was inside of Bella.

Now, I'm a little melancholy, missing her already. I take her picture and kneel next to the bed. Bella is curled into a tight, little ball. We agreed to go for a run this morning, but I'll be surprised if she wants to get up and go after our late night – Bella isn't the most gregarious of morning people.

"Baby…" I run a finger around her jaw and a thumb across her bottom lip as she stirs. "It's early, but I'm going for a run. I'd love you to join me if you're up for it."

Bella rolls and stretches and moans. Her hair is a mess and her cheeks are pink. She inhales deeply and smiles like an angel. I'm instantly hard.

"Yeah," she breathes. "I'll come. Let me get dressed. What's it like outside?"

"Fifty, clear, sun's almost over the ridge." I stand and back up so she can climb out of bed. "You might need sleeves, but shorts will do."

I sit and tie my shoelaces, watching Bella disappear behind the bedroom door with her running clothes. Five minutes later, she meets me downstairs and we take off on a quick jaunt.

Bella keeps a steady pace. She's a strong runner, and I love watching her stride. She's so tiny, but her legs are long and muscular. When she runs, she uses her entire body, flexing. Her body was made for this… and for me.

After our run, we shower together. Bella loves my shower, although she tries not to make a big deal out of it. However, the look on her face when the water hits her is euphoric. I just want to crush her against the wall and sink inside her tight, little body.

"Turn around, baby." I grab the travel-sized bottle of Bella's shampoo that she left in my shower three days ago. "I want to wash your hair."

I love her hair. If I were one of those fetishists who were into hair, Bella would be the number one object of my obsession. As is, she's pretty much the number one object of my obsession.

I massage the sweet suds into her scalp, and Bella relaxes into my body. The hot water sluices over our joined forms as I rinse the shampoo from her hair. Her conditioner has a peppery-herbal scent that complements her naturally sweet scent.

I lather up a loofah with the coconut and apricot body wash that she likes, and gently massage her beautiful skin. Her skin is amazing, glowing, smooth.

Once Bella is clean, she pushes me to my knees, giggling, and washes my hair. Her fingers massage my scalp, simultaneously making me harder than I was before, and totally relaxed. I just want to please her, make her moan, scream my name.

_Fuck._

"Sit down," I tell her, as I turn on my knees and shift her hips to the built-in bench along the far wall. Thankfully, she washed all the soap from my hair.

Bella sits and automatically lifts her delicate foot to rest on my shoulder. I settle between her knees and push her open wide, bracing her other foot against the adjacent wall.

Her hands are in my hair, digging, pulling, more demanding than they were when they were washing. _Fuck_, it feels good. I curl my arm around the thigh that's braced against my shoulder, and I slide one finger up and down her opening with my other hand.

My thumb and forefinger open her lower lips, and I taste her. She moans and slumps down, just a little, tugging my hair a little more. I stroke my fingers inside her and gently suck her clit between my lips.

Bella comes on my fingers and my tongue. Although she isn't always loud when she comes, I am granted with the screams I had hoped for.

"Yes!" She gasps for air. "Edward, yes!"

She grips my hair and pulls me up, whispering that she wants to hold me. She holds me, and she _thanks_ me. She kisses me with desperation.

After our shower, Bella is swathed in a large crimson bath sheet as she slathers lotion up and down her tanned and toned legs. She's mumbling about my trip, more to herself than to me.

"It's only two weeks…"

She doesn't say it out loud, because she doesn't want to make herself vulnerable, but she will miss me.

"Yes." I button two buttons on my white Henley as I approach her to take her in my arms. "Just two weeks, Bella – I need to wrap up a few things – then I'll be back and we can enjoy the rest of the summer."

I make Bella a latte in the kitchen and boil water for my tea. I hear her hum with delight at her first sip, and I glance over my shoulder to be graced with a blissful expression covering her face.

_Fuck, I'm going to miss her._

We are in my car park. Bella's fidgeting, mumbling about random things, like having to get to a meeting. She's having breakfast with Rosalie, so I'm pretty sure we have time to say goodbye.

She's avoiding.

"Look at me." The airport limo pulls around the curve as I bury a hand in her hair. She looks up at me and tilts head a little, furrows her brow. I pull her close and kiss her forehead.

"Two weeks, baby," I whisper into her hair. "And I'll call you. Don't worry."

As she pulls back from my embrace, her hands rest on my chest. She half-heartedly scoffs and shakes her head.

"I'm not worried…" she mumbles.

"Neither am I," I assure her as I kiss her lips. "I'll call you tonight. Good luck this week."

Bella nods and hikes her bag up on her shoulder. She looks at the ground, the limo, my bag; anywhere but my face.

The driver loads my bag into the car, and Bella climbs into her beat up old Jeep. As we follow her down the drive, down the mountain, and then turn the opposite direction from her on Main Street, I feel a pit in my stomach.

I text Bella from the plane to tell her I'm thinking about her, and she finally admits to missing me. Even if it is just a text message, I figure it's a start.

I step off of the plane and into the humid afternoon air of Chicago. I go through the motions of landing at O'Hare, find my driver, and head to the home I used to share with Tanya.

"Daddy!"

Before I can shut the door, Delia tackles my legs. She convinced Tanya to text me approximately eighteen times in the last 36-hours. Obviously, she was as anxious to see me, as I was to see her.

"Baby girl…" I drop my bag, crouch to pick her up, and sigh in contentment. I hold her close and she tells me, "welcome home".

_How did I ever think I could be away from her?_

"Welcome home, Mr. Cullen." Heidi's voice is friendly and professional as always. "Delia has spoken of nothing else since you left."

I secure Delia on my hip, beaming at Heidi. Then I see Tanya slowly descending the staircase. She appears entirely removed from the situation in front of her. I am instantly reminded of why I left.

I watch Tanya saunter toward us as Delia clumsily pulls my sunglasses from my face with one hand and tugs at the placket of my Henley with the other. Tanya's eyes lazily follow Delia's hand as it pats my cheek.

In a way that only a three-year-old can, Delia says, "Daddy, I made you a present!"

"You made me a present for your birthday?" I chuckle, and push Delia's messy hair out of her eyes. "What a sweetheart!"

I tickle her, and she giggles and writhes in my arms. She smacks my hands away and Heidi says something about making lunch, before she whisks Delia out of my arms and disappears into the kitchen.

"Hey…" Tanya's voice is rough. She's been crying. And she's medicated.

"Hey," I respond, swallowing the lump in my throat. I dig my hands in my pockets and rock on the balls of my feet.

Tanya takes a deep breath and closes the distance between us. She slips her arms under mine, wrapping herself around my torso. She settles her head on my chest, and I smell the familiar scents of jasmine and sandalwood.

I slowly encircle her shoulders with my arms, and we stand quietly in the foyer for what seems like hours until Tanya clears her throat.

"I'm thinking about taking a vacation." Tanya releases and steps away from me, shaking her hair over her shoulders. "Kate and I... I think it would be good for me. I've been so…" Tanya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Emotional."

There is a noticeable difference in Tanya's behavior, for sure. The old standards – her indifference, her drug use – seem more pronounced. This is a bitter realization.

Delia runs down the hall yelling, "Daddy," telling us that lunch is ready. I'm not at all hungry, but if Delia wants me to sit and have lunch with her, I'm not saying "no".

We have chicken salad and Delia picks out her onions. Heidi tells us that Delia's Montessori guide sent home a glowing report of Delia's development this summer.

"Daddy, Carmen says I'm bright." I decipher Delia-speak as she hops into my lap and puts her little hands around my neck.

My daughter is bright. At three-years old, she is more articulate and intellectual than some of the grown men I know who have law degrees.

"Need to shave, Daddy…" Delia scrunches up her little nose, staring at my mouth, poking me in the jaw. "Scruffy."

I laugh out loud at my daughter's frankness, before kissing her on the forehead. I'll shave while I'm here, since Delia prefers it. I think about how bummed Bella will be when I return to Forks clean-shaven. Then I think about making it up to her.

"Okay," Heidi thankfully interrupts my thoughts of Bella sprawled out naked and sweaty on my bedroom floor, to take Delia to get cleaned up. "Time for your nap, pumpkin. Tell Daddy you'll see him when you wake up."

Delia kisses my nose, and I kiss her cheek, before leaving her mother and I alone again. Tanya stands to clear our dishes from the kitchen table, and I help.

Once the dishwasher is loaded, Tanya walks to the table to retrieve our glasses and refills them with sweet tea. We walk out to the patio and choose a couple of lounge chairs in the shade. I sit on the edge of my seat, facing the pool, and Tanya settles back and closes her eyes.

After several moments, Tanya breaks the silence. "What do you think about Delia coming to visit you while I'm gone?"

I blink at the water, then slowly turn to face her.

I should not be stunned by Tanya's proposition, but I am. While I have always been the more attentive, nurturing parent, Tanya is Delia's mother. I know that she adores Delia. I cannot fathom why she would leave her now, while we're separated, to go on vacation.

"When?" I stare at her, as she lies in repose, seemingly careless.

"Next month." Tanya sighs. "If it's too much trouble, I'm sure Heidi could watch her."

_Too much trouble? What is she talking about?_

"Tanya…" I reach out to touch her, and she glances down at my hand on her thigh. "Delia is my daughter. She could never be trouble."

Tanya scoffs and rolls her eyes. "That's easy for you to say. You've been off gallivanting around the western slope with your new _girlfriend._"

I blanch at her tone and implication that I'm acting selfishly or inappropriately. Never mind the fact that Tanya has never been, and never will be, Delia's primary care taker. Just as I'm about to plead my own defense, she speaks.

"I'm sorry." Tanya waves a hand dismissively, and then settles her head back to the headrest. "That was unfair of me. It's obviously none of my business who you fuck or when. I'm just a little overwhelmed right now with Delia and – whatever… Anyway, if you could take her while I'm gone, I'd really appreciate it. And she'd love it, of course."

Tanya rolls her eyes, and I don't remember her ever being this glacial.

"Wait… Are you angry at me for having a relationship, or for being a good father?" I ask, bracing myself for a fight.

Tanya and I have never had a fight – not a real one – but I think that's exactly what we're about to have. As aware as I am that she probably won't remember what is said this afternoon, I am livid-pissed, and she will hear what I have to say.

"Because the last time I checked, you were fucking the pool boy at regular intervals and with great intensity, and _I_ was the one tucking Delia into bed every night. But I overlooked it, Tanya. I only ever wanted you to be happy."

Tanya scoffs again and swings her legs off her chair to stand.

"Yes, I know." She shuffles to the outdoor bar and pours a glass of bourbon, neat. "You've always wanted me to be _happy_. And trust me, Edward, you did a magnificent job of trying."

I stare at her as she stumbles, and then gulps down the brown liquid.

"But, you know what?" Tanya sloppily pours another two fingers of bourbon before sitting on a chair opposite me. "I'm _not_ happy. And I can't _be_ happy. Not here. I thought you'd always be here, Edward…"

I've decided to live my life, move on, and she accuses me of the one thing I swore I would never do. She's accusing me of abandoning her.

"Don't you dare." I feel my jaw tighten and my fists clench. "Don't you dare sit there and tell me I'm not doing right by you and our daughter-"

"_Our_ daughter?" Tanya slurs and arches a drunken brow. "The last time I checked, she was _my_ daughter, Edward. You can tuck her into bed at night all you want, but she'll never be _yours_."

It's a damn good thing I know her venomous words are the product of her mother's upbringing and her chronic ingestion of benzo and alcohol. She's hurting right now, and it's me who's catching the fire. I try to shake it off, focus on what she's saying instead of how she's saying it. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, slacken my jaw and exhale.

"I know you're angry." I open my eyes to see her swaying in her seat, a tear running down her cheek. "Tanya, I promised you I would take care of you, and I mean to honor that promise."

Tanya closes her eyes, and her chin trembles lightly. I stand, walk to her shaking form, pull the glass from her hand to place it back on the bar, slip one arm under her knees and one around her waist, and lift her from her chair. She automatically rolls into me, looping her arms around my neck and pressing her face into my shoulder.

"I'm sorry." She sobs quietly, as I take the stairs to her bedroom. "But I miss you, E. I miss you so much."

It seems that Tanya isn't the only one who's changed. As I lay her groggy, sniffling body on her bed to rest, and cover her with a light, cashmere throw, I'm smacked with the realization that, for the first time in my life, I am virtually unaffected by her tears.

Tanya and my interaction is scarce for the remainder of my time in Chicago. I call Emmett that first Tuesday night to tell him about my meetings and about Tanya's breakdown. Then, most of my stay is filled with conference calls from home, a few lunches, and lots of time with Delia.

Delia and I bake cookies with Heidi, go to the Zoo to see the penguins, play Webkinz, watch High School Musical three times, spend some Daddy-Daughter time on the lake, and every night Delia falls asleep in my arms.

I miss Bella. I talk to her nightly before bed and text her all fucking day, but the contact doesn't alleviate the longing I feel for her. The pit in my stomach that formed the second her truck turned away from my car just swells and swells every minute we're apart.

I can hear the indecision in her voice and read it in her messages. I just hope she doesn't decide this is a rebound, because that's bullshit. She knows it, and I know it. What we have is yet to be defined, but it's… fucking awesome. It's what I've always wanted.

Friday's meetings are particularly stressful. This thing with the Call land is becoming more and more complicated. At the end of the day, I head to the pool for a swim. After twenty laps, I decide to grab a bottle of water and a shower before phoning Bella to tell her goodnight.

The hot shower relaxes my muscles, but my mind is still racing with energy and thoughts. I wish Bella were here. I think about that picture I took of her the morning I left. I imagine her in my Vanquish, in the pool, in the shower with me now.

I'm hard as ever thinking about her tight curves and smooth skin. I need a fucking release. I wonder briefly if she'll have phone sex with me.

_There's only one way to find out._

I don't have to coax Bella into listening to me talk dirty about her and cars and what I want to do to her. She's so turned on that when I say the word "driving", she groans loudly into the phone.

I can hear her coming, and I want to climb through the phone and devour her. Instead, I tell her about Delia. I tell her good luck, and I tell her that I'll see her soon.

Once I talk to Delia about her visiting Forks, she talks non-stop about seeing "Uncle Emmett" and meeting all my new friends.

Bella and I have never really talked about how she feels about children. I still haven't told her about Delia's visit; I'd like to tell her in person and see her reaction. I trust Bella to be truthful with me, but sometimes I don't think she trusts herself with her own feelings. I don't want her to hide from me.

Carlisle and Esme return from London on the second Wednesday afternoon that I'm in Chicago, and by four-thirty P.M., Delia is in her grandmother's arms laughing, as all children should, without a care in the world.

Kahlila, Carlisle and Esme's housekeeper, makes a beautiful roast duck, and we talk about their trip. After dinner, Esme and Kahlila take Delia to play with the neighbor's new puppy, and Carlisle and I settle in his library for a cognac.

"Delia seems well." Carlisle pours us each a drink before taking a seat opposite me in a club chair.

"She's good." I nod. "Tanya is not."

Carlisle inhales deeply through his nose, never taking his eyes from mine. "Tanya is in a lot of pain, Edward. None of that pain is your fault. You know that, right?"

I do know that, but there is still that part of me – the part that promised I would never leave her – that has feelings of guilt and remorse for letting her down.

"I know," I agree. "But Tanya doesn't. She blames me."

"She doesn't blame you. Not entirely," Carlisle asserts, as he stretches toward the table where his humidor rests. "Tanya just needs to think things over."

Carlisle guillotines the tips of the cigars, lights a match, and gets us started. He asks me about Bella with a smirk on his face. I feel like I'm in high school again, being scrutinized by my pops for my crush on a girl.

I accept the proffered cigar with a smile, and swirl my brandy in its snifter.

"Bella is sublime." I relax into my chair, take a puff and a sip, and feel my smile grow wide.

"You look… Happy, Edward." Carlisle's expression is bemused. "What can you tell me about her?"

I tell my pops about her smile, her eyes, her kindness, and her generosity. I tell him she's like a riddle, without even trying, and that I can't wait to see what we'll be like once we get past all the early-relationship insecurities.

"She's a good, honest person." I grin and my hands itch to touch her face. "It's still early – we have obstacles. She can be closed off at times. But… I'm still just… in awe of her. All the time."

Carlisle looks at me for a long time before responding, "No agenda?"

"None." I'm just as amazed as he is. "Bella just… wants to be with me. It kind of shocks me, actually."

"It shouldn't." Carlisle's smile is wry as he taps his cigar on the ashtray next to his chair. "But you've been burned before. Now you have a chance to start over."

"Yeah," I breathe, and think about including Bella in my next steps to 'starting over'. "It's nice to think of it that way."

We sit in silence, as the thoughts I've had since I met Bella, and then came home to my old life, solidify in my head. I'm filing for divorce. Pops is right; I have a chance to start over.

Delia bursts into the room asking if she can have a puppy, because the neighbors have a German Shepard, "and it's soooooo cute, Daddy!"

I laugh and shake my head, not "no", but in amusement. "We'll see, baby. But it's time to go, so say bye-bye to Grandma and Pops."

We say our goodbyes, I remind my parents that I'm leaving on Sunday, and we make plans to have dinner again in the next few days.

At home, I tuck Delia into bed before running into Tanya in the hall.

"Edward," Tanya gasps, startled. "H-how are you?"

Tanya and I haven't spoken to each other since our argument. While that conversation was less than pleasant, I will not let this interaction, and what I'm about to say to her, kill the positive mood my conversation with Carlisle brought about.

"I'm well." I nod and smile lightly. I gauge her reaction to my casual tone, and she seems contrite, obviously remembering some of the things she said.

"Edward," Tanya speaks slowly, cautiously reaching for my hand. "I'm sorry. Please know that I… I didn't mean any of those things. You're a fantastic father to Delia. The only father she will ever have, Edward. "

I look into her eyes and see genuine remorse. Oddly, her uncharacteristically apologetic behavior encourages me further.

"Let's…" I motion to Delia's door. "Move to the library?"

Tanya and I leave the second floor of the house and enter the library on the floor below. I pour us each a drink, and Tanya eyes hers guardedly.

"Tanya," I speak clearly and gently. "I have never lied to you. I promised to always care for you, and I meant that."

Tanya nods somberly, taking a small sip of whiskey.

"That said," I firmly continue with my plan. "I'm filing for divorce as soon as possible."

Her shoulders slump in defeat. Once again, I do not feel compelled to comfort her. I don't want Tanya to suffer, but I refuse to continue sacrificing my freedom - my comfort - for hers. We've been over this, but my announcement makes it more real for her.

"I'm taking Delia on the lake again tomorrow," I declare, as I finish my drink. "We'll be out all day, I presume."

"Okay." She nods and stands to leave her drink virtually untouched. "Edward, I really am sorry."

"I know." I flash a tight smile. "So am I."

We embrace in a way that we never have. I think this is the most honest moment Tanya and I have ever had. The embrace is one of equals, partners, and I could not be more pleased.

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday are excruciating. I'm busy with meetings and making the necessary arrangements for Delia's Forks stay, but I can't stop thinking of Bella.

_You'll see her on Sunday. Calm the fuck down._

Saturday night, I call Bella for the last time from my old home in Chicago.

"Hello?" Bella is out of breath, and unsurprisingly, listening to her heavy breathing over the phone is a huge turn on.

"Hey, been running?"

"Hi." Bella's voice softens. "No, just… I was downstairs and left my phone on the balcony. What's up? You're coming home tomorrow! Erm… I mean, back to Forks."

I chuckle at what she would call her "word vomit". "Yes, I'm coming home tomorrow." I feel my smile grow. "And I have a few things to discuss with you."

"Oh… 'Kay?" Bella sounds hesitant and maybe a little nervous.

"It's all good, though," I assure her. "What's you schedule tomorrow? I'm thinking about trying to get out of here earlier than planned, if I can."

"I'm wide open," she answers, and I have a brief visual of her 'wide open'.

_Fuck._

"Good." I lick my lips and lower my voice, lying back into my pillows. "That's just the way I like you."

"Ohhh. Well, good." The breathy nature of her voice is more a result of lust than exertion at this point. However, Delia is sleeping next to me right now, which makes phone sex an impossibility.

"Good," I agree. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Let you know when I'm taking off?"

"'K," Bella answers, and I want to be there with her right now.

"Sleep well, baby." I want to kiss her. "I'll see you very soon."

"Yeah." Her voice is dreamy. I love the affect I have on her. "See you…"

We end our call, and I glance to Delia's sleeping form, cuddling with Mr. Gordo.

"You get to meet Bella soon, Princess." I rearrange the blankets around her. "And I'm sure you two will love each other just as much as I do."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

The phrase "absence makes the heart grow fonder" didn't mean much to me until Edward left for Chicago. My second week without him slithered at the pace of a fucking snail. I talked to him every night before bed, and he was attentive and sweet as always. It made me miss him like crazy.

Oddly, my anxiety about our relationship has become much less freakish in his absence. I've spent some time with Emmett and Alice, who describe Edward as a loyal, thoughtful, and selfless person. Alice also says, with a deliberate grin, that he's intense and private. She tells me to "hang in there, Bella. Things will only get better."

Before our time apart, I knew I loved the way Edward made me feel – made my body feel – but I was overwhelmed. It was like a rollercoaster, and I'm not a fan of amusement parks – they're loud and messy and full of sticky, screaming children and unexpected pains in the ass.

I said as much to Emmett the afternoon he came with Kita and me to Wagner Park in the center of downtown Forks. He laughed at that and said, "Yeah, but once you can get past all that shit, the thrill of the ride is more than worth it."

I kind of love Emmett.

This morning, Edward texted me to tell me he was on his way. That was four hours ago. So far, I've cleaned my tiny living space from top to bottom, washed every article of clothing I own, and brushed Angel into a state of near baldness.

Even though I'm totally PMS'ing and feel like I've gained about ten pounds in the past 36-hours, I can't wait to see Edward, to touch him. I'm also anxious to hear what he has to discuss with me, but I'm not nervous. I'm cool.

My phone buzzes next to my leg as I smoke on my balcony and chew on the cuticles around my nail beds, giving myself the most awesome hangnails ever.

_touching down. be there in 15. pull the shades and fold out the futon. I don't want to waste any time on formalities…_

I dash to my tiny bathroom, pee, brush my teeth, grab the box of condoms I bought this morning, swallow two Midol, and take a few cleansing breaths. I fill a glass with water and take several large gulps. Then, I move to my living room/bedroom and proceed to execute the tasks he has laid before me.

EPOV

"Dear Cousin o' mine!" Emmett's grin is huge. He's waiting at the gate – you can do that in Forks – with a poster-board sign that reads 'The Cast & Crew of _Cougar Hunt_ welcomes Edward Cullen' in enormous green lettering.

"Nice sign, asshole." I shake my head and smack the sign out of his grasp as he giggles and barely stops the sign from landing on the ground with his other hand.

"Don't poo-poo it, E." Emmett chastises me as we walk the thirty paces from the gate to the baggage claim. "I'm certain there is a perfectly lovely 50-something divorcée out there just waiting to get her claws into you. You're just too cute!"

With that, Emmett reaches out to pinch one of my cheeks, and I smack at him again and laugh.

"Em, I'm pretty sure I'd have to be at least ten years younger to qualify as cougar bait."

"Whatever... You're a killjoy." Emmett waves his hand. "You check any bags?"

"Yeah, one," I answer as we come to a stop in front of carousel #1 and immediately find my bag.

"I assume you'd like to go straight to Miss Isabella's, sir?" Emmett uses his best Morgan Freeman voice, which isn't very good, as we walk out the automatic doors to the passenger pick-up parking spots.

"Yes, please." I exhale loudly, as Emmett tosses my checked bag into the back of his Range Rover, and I set my carry on and laptop bag beside it. "You can just drop me next to the software store."

As we pull out of the airport parking and head east on the highway for the short five-minute drive to downtown Forks, I feel the anticipation of seeing Bella climb to an unbearable level.

My flight was uneventful, and as such, I had even more time to think of her. I sent her a text this morning when we got off the ground.

_on my way. how r u today?_

Bella replied quickly.

_i'm good. just got back from my run. getting in the shower. so, you'll be here in about 3 hours?_

She was sweaty. And possibly naked. _Fuck._

_probly more like 4… i'll text you when i land._

_k. xxxo – b_

_soon, love. - e_

I had four hours to think about Bella and all the things I wanted to do to her. I haven't had this luxury, to think about one person with this kind of intensity and attentiveness, ever in my life.

Granted, Tanya and I experimented quite a bit in our teens and early twenties, and she was the closest thing to a consistent sexual partner I had ever had. That said, I never had the feelings for Tanya that I do for Bella. When Tanya and I experimented, it was new – we were young – so the experience and the sensations sort of overshadowed our true feelings for each other.

Years later, sex with virtual strangers - flings, one-night stands – doesn't feel any different than adolescent experiments with your fuck buddy. It's shallow, empty, just sex.

But with Bella… Look, Bella makes me hard, and she could get me off with a simple lick of her perfect lips. And, yes, I intend to continue to use all the little tricks I've learned over the years to get _her_ off, but, that's not all.

It's not just about orgasms. No. I want more from her, from us. And I'm going to get that. Right now.

Emmett drops me off at the end of Bella's alley, and I grab my laptop bag and iPhone. Emmett agrees to take my other bags inside, when he gets back to my house.

I see Mike, the owner of the restaurant that is housed below Bella's apartment, in the alley. We chat briefly as I make my way up the stairs to see Bella for the first time in twelve-and-a-half days.

BPOV

"Hey, Cullen." I hear Mike's voice wafting from the alley below my balcony. "How was your trip, man?"

My front door is open, screen door allowing light and noise in from the outside, and I am frozen in place in the kitchen, waiting with bated breath.

"It was good, Mike." Edward's voice washes over me, and I grip the back of a pub chair. "How's business?"

Mike tells Edward that business is good and to come down later for a drink. Edward and I have been to Zocalito for dinner four times since the night we met. Mike and Tyler have welcomed him into their circle, which makes me pretty fucking happy.

I hear his heavy and quick footfall on the wood-plank walkway. He's wearing those fucking Doc Martens, and I feel my stomach flip-flop at the sound. I set my water glass on the table and turn toward the entrance to my apartment.

Edward's shadow slinks across my Roman shades. My screen door flies open, Edward's laptop bag slides from his shoulder, and he slams my inner door shut behind him before stalking toward me. Determined, predatory.

He doesn't say a word. His eyes are intense, wild, on fire… happy. I feel a gust of air leave my lungs, and adrenaline race through my limbs. I think I might come just from the sight of him, wanting me. _Me_.

I meet him halfway, he pulls my tank top over my head, and walks me backward to my futon, forcefully kissing my lips and my jaw. I sit on the edge of the mattress before slowly scooting up toward the pillows, watching him the whole way.

His lips quirk into a lop-sided grin, and he watches me intently, unbuttoning his fly and shoving his jeans just below his hips. He crawls up the bed to meet me at the pillows.

His… cock – if I can say it, I can think it – is popping out of his fly, bobbing and weaving, ready for battle. He leans into me, planting one knee between both of mine and his fists one either side of my hips.

"Take your shirt off," I whisper and lean back on my elbows to enjoy the show of him peeling that plain white t-shirt over his head. "I want to watch you take your shirt off."

He grins, and then quickly whips his t-shirt off, tossing it to the floor.

"Uhhn," I marvel at his beauty.

Edward pitches forward again, fingers in my sheets and on my breasts. I hiss. My nipples are always swollen and tender a few days before my period, no matter which birth control pill I'm taking. He chuckles into my neck, taking a long lick along my pulse point.

Edward caresses my ear with his lips as he ghosts his fingers over my breasts. Then he lightly takes my nipple between his thumb and two fingers to gently pull my hot, sensitive flesh.

"Fuck," I whine and writhe like a wanton whore, because what he's doing hurts and feels so good. I've been teetering on the edge since he left town.

Teeth across my shoulder, my shorts over my hips, cotton sliding down my legs... Licking my nipples, nudging my knees open wide...

"Open," he commands, and I open my legs further for him and bring my knees up.

He palms one of my knees and kneels between my open thighs. He holds me and caresses me with his eyes as he slips two fingers inside me. I let my head fall back, my messy ponytail brushing between my shoulder blades.

"Mmm," he groans as he leisurely rotates his fingers inside me, kneeling there, shirtless, pants open, boots on. "Missed you."

_Fuck._

I would never let Jake touch me when I was anywhere near or on my period. I always felt so hot and vulnerable and right on the edge of explosion. Right now, that seems like a really fucking good thing.

Fingers curling inside me, rubbing my g-spot, pressing my clit with his thumb…

"Edward," I breathe. "…so close."

"I know you are, baby."

Then I feel his hand leave my knee while he fucks me with his fingers. Two fingers and a thumb are inside my mouth. I get them wet and sloppy. I don't know what it is about Edward putting his fingers in my mouth, but I fucking dig that shit.

"Come." He gently tugs my teeth before trailing his fingers over my chin and down my throat, over my sternum. "And then I'm going to fuck you like I've wanted to since I left."

He pinches my nipple and pulls.

I shout something that I am certain is either complete gibberish or totally obscene, and I arch off the bed as a colossal orgasm shakes my foundation.

"Yeah." I hear him in a distant fog as his fingers slow inside me and then slip out. "That's right."

As I come back to a more acceptable level of consciousness, I see Edward leaning on one arm and stretching to reach for the box of condoms I set on my desk. He's hard against my inner thigh, and even after such an intense orgasm I want him.

I roll us over, so I'm on top of him, straddling his hips. His jeans are chafing my newly waxed thighs. I grind my wet slit over his cock, and he moans.

"Hang on, baby," he mumbles. "We need a condom."

"Why?" I gripe, even though I know it's the smart, responsible thing to do. "I'm on the pill. And I want you inside me _right now_."

Edward chuckles. "It'll just take a second, Bella."

He wrenches the box open, rips a condom off of one of the strips, and hands it to me.

"Put it on me," he instructs as he wraps his fingers around my hips.

The word "sheath" comes to mind as I roll the condom down his cock, and I giggle a little bit. I hate that word, but it seems to go hand-in-hand with condoms and the use thereof.

"What's so funny?" Edward's fingers dig into my skin, his expression is mischievous.

"I was just thinking of something silly." I shake my head and hope that I can have that 'thick piece of man-meat' 'sheathed' inside my 'womanhood' soon.

_Heh_.

"Silly, huh?" He lifts me and slides me down onto his cock in one solid move and I shudder. "Still feeling silly, Bella?"

He thrusts hard, and I hiss, digging my fingers into the hair on his chest.

"A little." I swallow audibly, and then muster up the confidence to say something dirty. "But I bet you could fuck that right outta me if you tried."

Edward growls and tosses me off of him and onto my back. I missed this, us, rolling around the bed, playing, fucking. God, I love this.

"I _love_ this!" I whisper and grab a handful of his hair as he looms over the top of me. My other hand grabs the headboard I have balanced behind my futon, for leverage. Because I have a feeling I'm in for a wild ride.

"Don't fucking let go of that headboard, Bella." Edward yanks my hand from his hair and wraps my fingers around the iron.

I suddenly feel like I'm in a physical therapy session for the sexually adventurous, because Edward grabs me by the knees, keeping them together, but pushing them up toward my chest and to the side. He wraps his fingers around the back of one knee, pushing until my hip rises, and guides himself back inside me with his other hand.

I wonder if I will ever get used to this. He feels so good to me, always. He's done things to me I never imagined, and here I am twisted like a motherfucking pretzel, begging for more.

"So tight, so _wet_." Edward thrusts as he grabs the headboard around one of my hands.

Pushing into me, hard, hot, slow… Hand gripping mine, hand bruising my thigh… So slick…

"It's all for you," I gasp. "I'm wet for you, Edward. Just you."

"God, Bella!" he shouts and throws his head back, gripping my knee impossibly tighter, gritting his teeth. "Fuck. Talk to me."

"I'm yours, Edward." The words are flying out of my mouth, and I know somewhere Gloria Steinem's brain is on fire. If it isn't already, it's gonna be. "Anything you want, Edward. Fuck! Oh, God. I'll be anything you want, just please…"

Edward swivels his hips, bangs into me. I can feel him swell inside me as I tense and arch off the bed.

EPOV

Every fucking time. Is that even possible? She comes every time. I feel like a fucking god. Or, a Fucking god.

I slow my pace and pump into her a few more times before my own release. I can hold off for a long time, but the way she's coming this afternoon, I might as well just come now. I'm sure she'll want more later, anyway. Thank God.

I release her thigh and her hand and roll to my side. I catch my breath and look at her lying beside me. She looks extremely satisfied.

"Hi," I whisper and she erupts into peals of laughter. She curls on her side, facing me. I smile at her and hold her gaze as I tie the condom off and toss it into her wastebasket.

"Hi," she answers and blinks slowly. "How was your flight?"

"Long," I answer as I lift my hips off the bed enough to pull my jeans back up and button a few buttons. I roll to my side to face her, pulling her close to me. "But, I'm here now."

"Are you hungry?" Bella is no chef, but she says she likes to do things for me. Her offer means more to me than anything. It feels good to be taken care of.

Fifteen minutes later, I sit at Bella's little pub table, watching her burn tomato bisque and try to grill a cheese sandwich. I'm thinking about the things she said, that she's mine, and I'm contemplating how to tell her my news.

On the one hand, she will more than likely be pleased that I have finally filed for divorce. I can't believe she's been this patient with me, to be honest, but that conversation could be a pretty emotional one, for both of us.

On the other hand, breaking the ice with the announcement that my daughter is coming to visit could be… volatile.

However, I think it's time I told her how I really feel.

Bella divides the soup into two mugs and slices the grilled cheese diagonally, placing it on a plate next to one of the mugs. She rinses the soup pan in the sink and then joins me at the table.

"So," Bella takes a deep breath and sighs. She eyes me tentatively and sips her soup.

"So," I echo. "Thanks. This looks great."

I take a bite of the sandwich. It's delicious. She used real butter. I dip the sandwich in the soup and she giggles.

"I do that, too." She smiles and sips her soup again.

"You want half?" I offer her the other half of my sandwich.

"No," she answers, smiling and shaking her head. "You need it. You're a growing boy."

We finish our snack, and I move our dirty dishes to the sink. Bella asks if I want to go downstairs for a drink.

"Sure," I answer, hesitating. "But first, there're a few things I'd like to… talk to you about."

Bella bristles and bites her lip. Her brow is furrowed, too. I told her on the phone the other night that what I had to say wasn't bad, but Bella second guesses herself at every turn.

"Is this the part where you tell me that you like to wear ladies underwear?" Bella cracks a joke, her typical method of alleviating a tense situation.

"No, no," I chuckle. "Nothing like that. Lets' sit."

We sit on the sofa and Bella pulls her feet under her, facing me, hugging a pillow. I sit on the edge of the couch and turn my body to face her.

"First of all, I want you to know what a fucking turn on it is to hear you say that you're mine."

Bella's eyes go wide, she blushes, and she grips the pillow so tight I expect to see feathers flying any minute.

"And the fact that you said it, _when_ you said it." I feel my pants tighten ever so slightly. "Jesus, Bella."

I shake my head, and Bella's entire chest is bright red now. I reach a hand out to stroke her exposed knee.

"But what I really want you to know is," I look her straight in the eye. "I'm yours, too."

Bella breathes a sigh of relief. She swallows and relaxes back into the cushions of her sofa.

"And… I filed for divorce on Thursday."

Bella is shocked, then relieved, then ecstatic as she throws herself across the expanse between us and into my lap. She kisses me full on the mouth, and squeals.

"Thank you," she whispers into my neck. "Thank you for telling me. And thank you for being happy about it. Wait-" She pulls back to look at my face, worry creeping into her features. "You are happy about it, right?"

"Yes," I answer, smiling and stroking her ribcage. She's distracting me, straddling me and kissing me. I still need to tell her about Delia. "I am happy about it. But, as you well know, it'll be a process. Still, I'm sure Tanya will be more than amicable through the dealings."

"What about Delia?" Bella's smile softens and she looks at my mouth, tracing my jaw, concerned. "Will there be a custody battle?"

"Our attorneys will devise a parenting schedule, but I don't foresee any complications." I clear my throat, thankful that Bella has broached the subject of Delia, but still not quite sure what to expect. "That brings me to the other topic I wanted to discuss with you."

Bella raises her eyebrows expectantly and clasps her hands behind my neck.

"Tanya is taking a trip with her sister next month." I ease into it. "And she's asked if I'd like to have Delia visit."

Bella blinks and then her smile widens. "Cool," is her only response as she nods her head.

"That doesn't," I hesitate, choosing my words as carefully as possible. "I mean you're not… freaked out?"

Bella rolls her eyes and climbs off my lap, and I turn to watch her walk to her kitchen.

"I'm not gonna lie, Edward." Bella pulls a bottle of Taittinger from the door of her refrigerator. "I'm not used to being around kids at all."

Within seconds, Bella defoils and pops the top of the champagne.

"But," she continues, as she opens her cupboard and grabs two flutes before heading back to the sofa. "I'd like to try..."

Bella sets the glasses on the wooden tray that sits on her ottoman and pours us each a small glass of bubbly.

"For you," she finishes her response as she hands me a glass with a small smile and raises her own in a toast.

I stay seated, looking up at Bella in awe. I toast her as she says, "Going forward," with a lick to her _fucking perfect lips_, before tossing her champagne back.

I take a sip and Bella sets her glass and the bottle aside, then takes my glass from me.

"We need to make up for lost time, Mister." Bella lays down on the sofa and pulls me on top of her and between her legs. "You were gone for two weeks. Get crackin'!"

"I thought _that_, " I motion to her futon. "Was pretty crackin'. Just sayin'."

Bella throws her head back into the cushions and giggles under me.

"I'll give you that," she agrees, sighing and rolling her hips under me. "But, I want… more."

Her eyes are suddenly shy, serious, gentle. I know there's a double meaning there, and it thrills me to the core.

"You can have as much as you want," I whisper into her hair, kiss her jaw, rub our noses together, Eskimo-style. "Will you to tell me something first?"

"Anything." She kisses my lips and smiles with her eyes closed.

"What were you thinking about when you suggested we go without a condom?" She freezes in my arms and flushes red with discomfort, a little girl getting caught playing dress up. "I'm not angry, Bella. I just want to know; do you want to stop using condoms? Is that what you meant?"

"Sure," she answers, chewing her lip. I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand trying to calm her. "I mean, if you want to. Do we need to talk about this right now?"

She's embarrassed talking about using condoms responsibly, but she'll beg me to fuck her six ways from Tuesday.

"So I can fuck you, but I can't talk about it. Is that it?"

"Jesus," she whispers and squirms under me on the sofa. "Do you have to be so blunt?"

"You don't mind me being blunt, when I'm inside you," I shoot back, and she groans a little, making me have to hide a smirk.

"God," she winces. "That's… different."

"Okay," I concede. "I understand that you're not entirely comfortable speaking so casually about safe sex options, but we need to figure out a way that you are comfortable talking about it."

"Why do we have to talk about it at all?" she protests, and tries to distract me with her lips on my neck. "We _do it_ so well. I don't see the need for discussion."

"Well, Bella," I reply as she scrapes her fingers across my scalp. "What if next time you decide you don't want to use a condom, and I get swept up in the moment as well? Or vice versa?"

She looks thoughtfully at my chest, but she won't look me in the eyes.

"Baby," I tilt her face up to meet my gaze. "You need to trust me with your wishes and your thoughts as much as you trust me with your body."

I can see the battle behind her eyes and feel her heartbeat heavy in her chest.

"Well, maybe." She swallows and looks down at her hands that are now flat against my chest. "Maybe we could, ya know, talk about… options?"

_Good girl._

"Like, maybe we could get tested?" I hold her hands against my chest and tilt my own head, now, to see her face better. "And then we could discuss going without? Like those kinds of options?"

"Yeah." She shrugs and smiles shyly. She looks relieved and a little bit triumphant. "Like that."

"Sounds good." I kiss her temple and feel her body relax in my arms. "I'll have Jessica call tomorrow to make an appointment for me."

Our kissing and caressing transitions to playful lovemaking. I know for a fact that I have never been this open with anyone else in my life. One minute I'm ravaging Bella's body – fucking her, biting her – and the next we're laughing and joking like the best, most comfortable of friends.

We don't place pressure on each other, but we can still grow and learn together. We're just… us, and it is such a relief to know that I can be anyone with Bella. I'm happy right now, satisfied, and I'll do whatever I can to satisfy her in return.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

Trying to break the concentration of a cat is no small feat.

Angel is using all of his kitty powers to try and shove his entire upper body under the stove. Pretty much, he's frantically alternating swiping paws and ramming his head against the oven door.

"Angel, pumpkin, what are you reaching for?" I have given up flicking water on him in an attempt to distract him from hurting himself and am now kneeling next to him on the floor, trying to steal a look at the apparent treasure under the stove.

"All I see are dustbunnies." I lift him up and he screeches, hisses and bats at my face. I smooth his fur and shake off the cobwebs he's accumulated because of my poor housekeeping skills.

"It's probably my ring," Edward mumbles as he pulls a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Shit," I swear as I finally notice the glint of metal peeking from under the stove. I grab a wooden spoon from the drawer and the Maglite from next to the bathroom door and fish out his ring. "Sorry."

As I hand him the ring, which he promptly places on top of the refrigerator, he doesn't seem upset at all. I feel like a selfish, negligent child. That ring had to be expensive, and not only did I demand that he take it off, but I just left it there on the floor like a shiny, little cat toy.

"Don't be." Edward kisses my temple, my jaw, and my throat. "I saw him bat it under there the night I took it off. I just kept forgetting about it. I can't seem to focus when I'm with you."

Once again, I find myself wondering when I'm going to wake up from this fantasy, or when I'm going to find out that Edward does, in fact, like to wear ladies underpants.

He has morning breath. And about 30-minutes ago, he woke me up for a little In 'N' Out – and I don't mean fast food – which ended in a mess because Aunt Flow decided to pop in for her monthly visit. So, why am I so fucking turned on again?

"Take a shower with me." Edward mutters into the ear that he's nibbling. "I need you to wash my back."

I sigh through the sensations of his fingers against the sliver of exposed skin at my waist and his teeth on my shoulder. Edward continues nipping at my skin as he pulls me into my tiny bathroom.

"Are your hands broken?" I pull my tank top over my head as he twists the knobs of the faucet, bringing the water up to temperature.

"No, I just like your hands better than my own." Edward sits on the side of the tub, pushes my cotton shorts over my hips, and peers up at me. He looks so fucking sexy all stubbly, ruffled hair, and morning-sleepy.

He pulls me toward his seated form, lightly stroking my inner thigh. After I discovered I was bleeding this morning, I shot out of bed and into the bathroom to remedy my embarrassment with a washcloth and a tampon. Now he's trying to remedy my lack of orgasm with his fucktastic fingers.

"There's nothing wrong with your hands," I mumble. "But are you sure you want to do that? After… this morning?"

Edward chuckles lightly, licking my nipples and brushing his lips across my breasts. With his hands framing my hips, he slides a thumb between my labia and clit and I squirm. "Positive."

Edward kicks his flip-flops to the side and stands. He kisses my lips sweetly and slowly as he pushes his pajama bottoms off, breaking our lip lock only to sweep the shower curtain back out of the way.

"Get in," Edward murmurs.

The spray of water is heavenly; it's hot and my muscles are knotted and sore from PMS and Edward's homecoming celebration. He slips into the shower stall to stand behind me, and I feel his strong hands at my shoulders, gently squeezing and massaging.

"You should get a massage today, baby." His thighs lightly brush against my ass and I melt into him. "You're pretty tight."

"It's always like that during my period."

He wraps his arms around me and gently cups one of my breasts, rubbing his thumb over my nipple. His other hand cups my pussy, applying light pressure to my clit with the heel of his hand. He's kissing my shoulder and humming softly in my ear. His cock is semi-hard in the small of my back, and I lean into him, letting the hot water wash over our joined forms.

"I love touching you," Edward whispers into my ear. He lets up on the pressure of his hand, but then lightly parts my lips with two fingers to stroke up and down and around on my clit. "I love making you come, Bella. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Right there," I whine and my hand flies to the back of his head. I feel like I might collapse. Edward holds me up, whispering in my ear how much he wants to please me, how much I deserve to be pleased, how my pleasure gets him off.

We stand and sway under the hot water, Edward comforting and relaxing me, until it's time to do what people are supposed to do in showers, and that's, ya know, shower.

Once we're clean and dry and out of the shower, I blend smoothies in the kitchen with yogurt, strawberries, bananas, and a splash of OJ. There is barely enough juice left in the jug to put back in the fridge, and I'm about to tell Edward to finish it off, when he lifts the carton to his lips.

He's standing in my kitchen, bare-chested and barefoot. One set of his fingers are lightly gripping the counter top and the other set are wrapped around the container of Simply Orange. His head is tilted back, Adam's Apple bobbing, gulping the last of the orange juice straight from the carton.

"What?" Edward asks after he lowers the carton and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. Does that gross you out? I didn't think it'd be a big deal, since there wasn't much left."

He discards the empty container in my recycle bin, and I close my gaping jaw, shaking my head "no". I lie and tell him I was just spacing off.

"Straw?" I ask Edward, still in a bit of a daze. "For your smoothie?"

"You have those little, bendy straws." He smiles as he accepts the glass from my hand. "You're so cute."

"Duh," I reply, because, well, duh. "I mean, what the hell else kinda straw would you use?"

Edward laughs as he sips his smoothie. We continue our morning routine, as if we've been doing this for years.

After Edward heads home to dress for work, I walk over to Peter and Garrett's for coffee. Peter works primarily from home, and Garrett works for the Community Theatre. _Fiddler on the Roof_ is opening Thursday night, so Garrett is swamped this week, and Peter and I are alone.

"Do you have any of that evil vanilla creamer stuff? I love that shit." I really hope he has creamer, because he cannot brew a decent Italian roast to save his gay ass.

"Of course," Peter chirps. "I know how much you hate my coffee, dear, so don't pretend it's the creamer you love."

Peter plops the plastic container on the table in front of me, and I dump a bunch of it into my mug.

"So!" Peter puffs a Camel, offering me one from the pack, and settles into a dining chair. "What's new? How's Eddie?"

"He's good." I nod, accepting a cigarette and sipping my super sweet coffee/creamer concoction. "He made it back yesterday afternoon, we fucked like rabbits, went downstairs for dinner, had a drink, walked around town a little bit… Man, it was a beautiful night, wasn't it?"

Peter smirks at me and sings, "You're in loooove!"

I roll my eyes. "Pete, I've known him for about three minutes. I can't be in love with him."

Peter arches a brow and gives me a look that says, "whatever."

"Look, I'm not going to pretend that he doesn't have a seriously awesome effect on me. The sex is amazing, and more than that, he _gets_ me. He listens, with _interest _and_ understanding_. He's like you or Rose, except he likes pussy."

"Ick." Peter shudders.

"But we've only just begun, as Karen Carpenter would say, and I just want to enjoy it for what it is. Ya know?" I take a drag from my cigarette and Pete looks smug as he inhales from his own cigarette.

This past year taught me more about myself than I ever wanted to know. Then I met Edward and realized that those things aren't bad. Because he digs me - like, really digs me - and I'm finally becoming more comfortable in my own skin.

"But, who knows?" I shrug. "Nobody's perfect, except Garrett, so Edward could very well have thirteen bodies buried in his cellar or something."

"Oh, please." Peter waves a hand dismissively and rolls his eyes. "Garrett is a slob and a hypocrite. I have to pick up his dirty panties every morning from the bedroom floor, and yet he criticizes me for not emptying my ashtray on the back stoop."

"Garrett leaves his underwear on the floor?" I'm shocked. "I'm not sure how to process this information, Pete. You're crushing my concept of reality."

Peter laughs and refills our mugs, leaving plenty of room for cream in mine. "No wonder you've been so disappointed for so long. You are the most cynical idealist I have even known."

"Yeah. And I just keep expecting Edward to disappear," I muse. "Like he's a figment of my imagination. But I don't necessarily feel like I don't deserve him. I just feel like, he's too good to be true."

Peter tilts his head with concern, but doesn't express it verbally. He's quiet, encouraging me to keep talking.

"I mean, I couldn't build a better man for myself. I'm enjoying my time with him, but he has a daughter, and his divorce won't be easy, ya know?"

Peter purses his lips, furrows his brow, looks thoughtful. "When will she be here?"

"In a few weeks," I answer. "I don't know for sure when, and Edward doesn't know how long she's staying."

"And you're worried." Peter states, rather than asks.

"Well, I'm psyched to meet her." I smile, trying to project confidence. I really am excited, so why am I fraying this paper napkin in my hand? "He loves her, so I want to love her. And, really, how cute is she going to be, right?"

Peter smiles and nods. Peter and Garrett have been considering adoption, and they both want a girl. We've talked about little girl clothes and little girl shoes, pigtails and ponies. However, usually when we discuss those things, it's within the context that Peter and Garrett would be the parents, not me.

"It's instinct, doll." Peter gets up from the table and crosses the floor to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Bushmills. "You'll do _just fine_."

Peter pours two shots of the whiskey and hands me a glass. We clink and shoot. It's early for whiskey shots, but I'm kind of grateful to Pete for reading me so well - I needed a little jolt.

"I love you," I simply state, as Peter replaces the Bushmills and rinses our shot glasses.

"I love you, too, Izz." He returns to the table and sits once again.

"You know what else?"

"What else?" Pete asks as he picks at the muffins in the bowl on the table.

"We're getting tested," I admit shakily, hearing it come from my mouth for someone's ears other than Edward's. "Like, for STIs. So we can go without condoms."

Peter knows that I was tested once. My senior year of high school, I found out my boyfriend was fucking a sophomore from the Catholic school. Renee insisted that I get a full work up. Since then, I have never gone without a condom, and have never had anyone other than Jacob as a sexual partner.

"That's a big step for you." Peter sinks his teeth into his banana nut muffin.

"Yeah," I admit. "But it's kind of, I dunno, sexy? Like, the fact that he wants to go through this all, to be closer to me? It just makes me feel so cared for."

"You are the sweetest girl, Isabella Swan." Peter's expression is reverent and loving as he holds my hand in his. "And I would wager that boy knows it, too."

EPOV

Over the next few weeks, Bella and I settle into a comfortable routine. We spend most nights together - at my place or hers - cooking, eating, making love, sleeping, watching movies. She has excellent taste in film, and I've learned a lot in the short time we've been together.

We run then shower together almost every morning before breakfast and starting our day. It is a rare occasion for me to not be able to reach out and touch her or taste her at any given moment, unless I'm at my office.

Bella tells me one night that she was surprised that I wanted to have sex with her while she was on her period. I tell her that I always want to be with her. Hearing myself say it out loud brings a lot of things to the front.

Until now, I have never had to make a choice about things like having sex with someone who was on their period. Tanya and I were never regular enough lovers for her menstrual cycle to figure into anything, and none of the other women I have been with were significant enough for me to know or care.

This is also the first time in my life that I would have reason to know or care about a lover's past sex life. I've just never been worried about anyone's safety but my own, and I definitely have never suggested that a partner and I go without condoms.

Bella and I each make appointments for STI testing. Bella gets in right away, but I want to wait until the end of September because I slept with Victoria on my birthday.

"Baby, I'm sorry." She seems upset, and I don't blame her. She's taking out her upset on the poor bell peppers that she's chopping for our stir-fry. "I just want to be sure I'm completely safe. Most doctors recommend waiting three months between partners before expecting accurate HIV test results."

Bella's eyes widen with the acknowledgement that I had sex with someone else so close to meeting her. Then she carefully resumes chopping. I wish I didn't have to put her through this. I wish I could take it all back just to be with her and her alone.

"The good news is..." I pull her into my arms and her hands hang limply at my sides. She's still holding the knife. "Once I take the test, we should have the results in just a few days."

Bella must think I'm the biggest slut. After making her so happy, agreeing to get tested, I have to delay it because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants. I feel like an ass.

"It's okay, Edward." She sighs and pulls out of my embrace just enough to set the knife of the cutting board. "Like you said, we're just learning each other, right? We have to expect a few bumps, right?"

"Yeah," I agree as she rests her head on my chest and wraps her arms around my waist. "That's right."

One Saturday night, Em and I meet Rose and Bella for dinner at Matsuhisa. We sit on the patio and have baked black cod, Colorado-style yellow fin sashimi, enough rolls to feed a small village, a carafe of sake, and a bottle of wine.

"This eel is divine." Rose moans, and then turns to Emmett who is grinning ear to ear. "Did you get some? Here."

Rose and Emmett seem to be getting along better than I could have imagined. Emmett has been a bit of a philanderer, but there is something about Rosalie Hale that puts a sparkle in his eyes like I've never seen. I can honestly say she looks happy, too.

Rose pops a roll into Emmett's mouth and he hums in pleasure. "Good stuff." I don't know if he's talking about the fish or the woman in front of him.

"I don't even need the rolls," Bella laughs. "The sashimi just melts in your mouth. And the cod? Unf."

I sip my wine and watch Bella slip her chopsticks slowly between her lips. She looks so at ease. I feel lucky. I also feel an urge to take her right now. _There has to be a secluded alley around here..._

Bella looks at me and arches a brow, flirtatious, fun, silly. "Do you want some of this?" She has no idea the things I'm thinking right now.

I smile and lean close to her as she feeds me black cod in a sweet sauce, our eyes never breaking contact. Every moment with her is intense and warm. I cannot imagine ever wanting anyone else ever again.

We pay our tab and I'm feeling pretty buzzed from the drinks. But Emmett says he wants a pint of Guinness. He says he heard the Double Dog has the freshest in town. Rose shoots a look that I don't understand in Bella's direction and Bella shrugs it off, looping her arm through Rose's arm and whispering in her ear.

We walk around the block to the little pub and the girls giggle and point at the pictures of local dogs lining the stairwell. I think about how Delia would love these pictures, and I make a note to show them to her when she visits.

We reach the basement and Bella pulls me over to a booth. The space is very small. The seating arches around the bar, so the bartender can see all the tables at once. It's like one of those old neighborhood bars, where my uncle used to hang out when we were kids.

Bella slides across the seat and Rose mirrors her on the other side of the table. I sit next to Bella and Emmett sits next to Rose. Bella smiles and waves at someone across the room, and I turn to see a large guy full of piercings and tattoos.

"Who's that?" I don't recognize him, but I don't like the way he's looking at Bella.

"Felix." Bella hands me a plastic cup filled with water. "He's my tattoo guy."

I accept the cup from her and glance back at her "tattoo guy." He sizes me up, and I flash him a tight smile. I feel something flare in me. I'm pretty sure it's jealousy, although I've never felt it before. Whatever it is, I don't like it.

I take a sip of the water and grab a drink menu from the holder against the wall.

"I don't know why you're bothering with a menu, E." Emmett chastises me. "It's an Irish Pub. You drink Irish Stout at an Irish Pub."

"Maybe I want Irish whiskey." I shrug and consult the menu, but before I have a chance to decide anything, there's a server at the side of the table.

"What can I get for you?" She's tall and thin with a sour-looking expression, and she tosses dinner menus onto the table, one of which rudely bumps Bella's hand.

"Leah." Rose coos and smirks. Bella and Rose, neither one, flinch at this woman's obvious disrespect for Bella.

"We've already eaten." I immediately gather the menus and thrust them back into Leah's hands. "Thanks. We're just here for drinks."

She furrows her brow in irritancy, and glares at me. Just then it hits me that we're in an Irish Pub, ordering Irish Stout. We are in Jacob Black's bar.

"Well, we might have dessert, babe." I hear Bella's voice next to me, friendly, calm, and relaxed as her hand strokes my arm, trying to ease my rising temper. "Leah, I'll take a Jameson and soda with lime. Thanks."

Rose and Emmett order Guinness, and I order a double Bushmills, up.

"Stupid cow." Rose chuckles, as our surly server leaves the table with an eye roll. "I thought she quit working here. What the fuck is up with that?"

"Jacob's in a lot of trouble," Bella answers immediately, looking down at the dessert menu, not meeting anyone's gaze. "He co-signed on a loan for Embry, and then Embry sold the land for less than he owed, leaving Jake high and dry."

_Didn't I tell Bella about the foreclosure? Does she think I low-balled Embry? Is that what Jacob would have her believe?_

"Beautiful," Rose mutters and rolls her eyes. "Just what this town needs, another reason for Leah Clearwater to be a bitter harpy."

"Bella-" I'm interrupted by Leah slopping the Guinness pints onto the table. Emmett snorts and Rose smacks his arm.

"Do you have a problem?" I snap at Leah, not really caring at all what her problem is, just acting out against her pissy, fucking attitude. She scoffs and looks down her nose at me, as if I'm missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

"Thanks, Leah." Bella touches my arm, and then reaches across me to hand her credit card to Leah. "Run a tab?"

Leah snatches the card out of Bella's hands then motions to the bar. "First round is on the house."

Bella rolls her eyes before glancing up at the bar. She waves to a huge man, who is wiping his hands on a bar towel. I assume the man is Jacob. He smirks at me, and salutes, like a fucking douchebag. I turn back to face Bella and see her eyeing me cautiously.

"Bella." I cannot believe the audacity of this prick, buying us a round of drinks, and then flirting with Bella. I would really like to punch one of these assholes ogling her, but I also need to clarify something important with her. "Embry didn't sell that land. I thought I explained-"

"You don't have to explain it to me, Edward." Bella shakes her head and squeezes the lime into her glass. "It's none of my business, not anymore."

Bella sips from her glass and I can tell she wants to mean what she says. When she told me the other night that she wanted to try, she meant more than just try with my daughter. Our relationship is going to be difficult for her on several levels.

"Trust me," I plead, as I touch her wrist. She flips her hand over, palm up, so that our fingers can easily entwine. When her eyes meet mine once more, she is smiling softly.

"I do." Bella squeezes my hand and then looks up and behind me with a wry grin. "What's up?"

I turn to see Jacob, up close and personal. He's bigger than Emmett, which is saying a lot, and I can tell he likes using his size to intimidate on a regular basis. Only, I'm not intimidated. I smile up at him sarcastically.

"Just thought I'd pop over and make sure y'all are being taken care of," Jacob announces. Rose makes a sound similar to a "pssh" from across the table as she pulls a mirror and a tube of lip gloss from her handbag.

"We're good, Jake." Bella smiles pleasantly and nods, a technique she has refined through her years of mollifying clients. "I know you've spoken, but have you met Edward Cullen and Emmett McCarty in person yet?" Bella feigns innocence and continues to smile amicably, as she motions to me and then to Emmett.

_She's smooth._

"Guys, this is Jacob Black. He manages the pub."

Jacob looks at her incredulously, surely wondering, as am I, why she's being so annoyingly cool and cheerful. As he stands stunned in silence, I reach out my hand waiting, until he decides to man-up and reluctantly accept my offer.

"Jacob." I nod, and he grips my hand a little too hard. "Nice place. Too bad the wait staff is so unpleasant; you could have a really great thing here."

His expression is surprise then disappointment. However, he doesn't apologize, and for a minute I feel guilty. It was a low blow to attack his woman, but she attacked first.

Jacob and my staring match and handshake are broken by Bella's hand on my arm, again trying to calm me, and Emmett's bellow.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Jake." Emmett shakes Jacob's hand firmly, and I can tell that Emmett is squeezing his hand in a vice much the way Jacob was squeezing mine. "Can I call you Jake?"

Emmett plays right into Bella's hand and she smiles with satisfaction. Rose finishes up her lip gloss and wags her eyebrows at Bella as she tosses the tube and the mirror back into her bag.

"Sure," Jacob answers Emmett's request. "Lotta people call me Jake. That's cool."

"Cool." Emmett nods and smiles a big, toothy grin. "So, we're meeting in Cullen's office on Monday, right?"

"Yeah," Jacob answers and nods in my direction. I swallow the remainder of my whiskey in one gulp.

"Right." I confirm, setting the rocks glass down on the wood a little harder than necessary. I'm pretty sure I'm grinding my teeth. "Ten o'clock."

Jacob rocks back and forth on his feet, glaring for just a second, before Bella swoops in once again.

"Oh!" Her voice is excited. "Hey, Jake… how's the Kahlúa Torte? I haven't had it yet and we need chocolate."

"It's good, Bells." Jacob nods shyly and blinks slowly, eyeing me cautiously. "I'll put in an order for you. How many?"

I hear the smile in Bella's voice as she orders two desserts with four forks. Jacob breaks eye contact with me, nods, and walks off.

By the time our dessert is delivered – not by Leah, but by another, more genial server – I have had five shots of whiskey. I am much less tense, but publicly displaying an excessive amount of affection with Bella. I feel like an animal marking his territory.

Rose rolls her eyes, and Bella chuckles a, "Down boy," when at one point, I practically lick chocolate from her lips, like a drunken pervert.

"Dude," Emmett laughs. "You are _drunk_."

I try to shrug him off, but he's probably right. I decide that I should cut myself off for the night, so I stick to the cups of water that Bella continues to pour for me.

We leave the bar around eleven-thirty. Bella waves goodbye to Jacob, who nods in our direction and gives me another extensive look of distrust, which some might refer to as the "hairy eyeball."

_Whatever._

I toss my arm around Bella's shoulders, in case there is any question with whom she's leaving, and we walk up the stairs and onto the street. Bella takes my keys out of my hand when we reach my car, "If you insist on sleeping at your house tonight, I'm driving."

"What about Emmett?" I look around and see Emmett and Rose walking in the opposite direction, waving at us and laughing.

"Emmett's staying with Rose," Bella replies softly. "Come on, babe. Let's go home."

Once we arrive at my house, Bella makes tea and I build a fire on the patio. I'm starting to realize that I may have made an ass of myself tonight.

"Thanks for running interference tonight," I speak quietly into her hair later, as I'm spooned behind her on a chaise by the fire pit. "You'd think I'd know how to behave myself. But I just… I guess I was jealous. I mean that tattoo guy has had his hands all over you. And Jacob?"

Bella chuckles lightly and kisses the forearm that's wrapped tightly around her. "You weren't _that_ bad Edward. It was kind of endearing, to see you vulnerable. But you don't have to worry about other men. You know that, right?"

"I know." I kiss her temple, and she grinds her perfect little ass onto my cock. "I just wanted you to know that I'm… sorry. I acted like a jerk."

"Well," Bella wiggles and spins until she's facing me, grinning. "Then, you owe me." She rolls me so my back is to the chaise and she straddles me. "So just remember how sorry you are when I screw up with Delia."

Her tone is playful, but her expression is tense. I look up into her sweet, sincere face. There is so much more to Bella than meets the eye. On the surface, she's this funny, sexy, sassy girl. Underneath, she's – fuck – warm, nurturing, kind.

"Baby," I stroke her thighs, pushing her white, peasant skirt up to her hips. "You won't screw up. Delia's easy. Trust me." I run a finger around the elastic of her panties at the juncture of her thigh and her pussy. "Remember earlier? You said you trusted me."

I hook my finger around the silky material, and slide my knuckle up and down, feeling that she's wet. She relaxes instantly, spreading her legs and sinking into my lap.

"And, what's this?" I uncurl my fingers and two of them find their way home, inside her body. "You're wet for me already?" She grins wide, moans and throws her head back.

I know I don't have to worry about other men. They may have been looking at her, but she was looking at _me_.

"Always," she breathes and writhes in my lap. Her thighs grip my hips and her hands are braced behind her on my thighs. She rides my hand before finally teetering forward to kiss me. I finger her until she comes, moaning into my mouth.

Bella sighs, and then giggles softly, cupping my face in her hands. She peppers my jaw with kisses as she whispers, "Good boy," in my ear.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

Monday morning, Jacob Black and Embry Call come to my office. Our official agenda is to finalize which development plans for Embry's property to use going forward.

"Cullen." Jacob rolls his eyes as I lobby for developing the land as a multi-unit dwelling, as opposed to a single-family home. "I'm not an idiot, and I happen to live here full time, so I know what this valley needs. I agree this property should be multi-unit, but I think it should be affordable housing, not free market. In this economy, not that you have a clue about the hardships most of us endure in an economy like this, people around here are really struggling. Additional affordable housing would really help the workers – again, not that you're familiar – of this valley to meet their goals of owning their own home."

"Jake." Emmett pinches the bridge of his nose in an uncharacteristic display of impatience. "You know what it would take to rezone this property. It'd be another six to nine months to get the paperwork on something like that filed before we could even begin the zoning. Your little socialist housing system here ain't all that and a bag a chips-"

The City of Forks has what they call a housing lottery, wherein residents who have worked in Clallam County for four years or more are eligible to bid on homes, condos, or apartments within their financial bracket, and are then selected at random.

"We're not developing this land just to hand it over to the Housing Authority." I interrupt Emmett's rant, which is sure to escalate into a PSA for capitalism and freewill.

"I'm not going to argue that the system doesn't work, because it does, but it isn't the right choice for this property." It would be a mistake to take this amazing private land, which is butted up against 30 acres of Bureau of Land Management wilderness, and hand it over to the city to develop as they see fit. "End of discussion."

"Aren't you the dictator," Jacob mumbles and glares at me. "Is this your idea of fair, Cullen? Because, really, you aren't doing anybody any favors with the pretense of a partnership with Embry. You made a deal."

"And what was that, exactly?" I cock an eyebrow at Embry, who fidgets and squirms in his seat, caught. "I'm curious to know how you've explained this all to Mr. Black."

It solidifies in my mind - Jacob didn't lie to Bella. He simply told her what he believed to be true.

There is an uncomfortable silence settling over the room. Emmett sits stone still, eyes narrowed, waiting to pounce on the first slight move.

"Mr. Call," I break the silence. "Does your consultant know the details that lead to our agreement?"

Embry shrugs and proceeds to explain to Jacob what Emmett and I already know. Over the last ten years, he has taken out three mortgages on his family's land in Forks, has purchased property in Mexico and Oregon, and has no other assets to cover his debt.

"Denali & Cullen didn't buy the property, Jake," Embry mumbles. "I didn't tell you the whole story, and I'm sorry. I thought your help on that last loan was all I needed to get me over the hump, and then the economy tanked..."

Jacob looks like he's about to explode, tear a hole through the wall, and rip us all to shreds. He bows his head, tensely shaking it from side to side, maybe trying to clear his thoughts.

"And, you knew this." Jacob's voice is low, even. "The whole time, you knew."

He raises his head, looking me in the eye, and I nod.

"Does Bella know?" Jacob's fists are tight on the table, and he doesn't acknowledge Embry's shrinking form beside him.

Jacob doesn't want Bella to think he lied to her about Embry's situation. Since Jake was the one who brought her into this potential mess, he probably feels responsible for making sure she has the truth.

"I told her about a deal I've been working on, but I don't think she's put it together." Jacob relaxes. He looks thoughtful. He must be considering whether or not he should tell her himself. "But honestly, it isn't my place, Jake. Hearing it from you is probably more appropriate… if you think she needs to know."

I'm playing on his sense of obligation to Bella, and I'm asking him for a favor. I'm asking him to clear the air with Bella, because I know that at some point, if she never learned the truth, she would resent me the way Jacob fears that she may resent him.

"Yeah," Jake mumbles, moving to get up and move. "You're probably right about that."

"I'm sorry, Jake." Embry is ashamed. I don't blame him for feeling guilty, but I hope that Jake can see through his deceit for what it was.

Our meeting's agenda is cut short. Jacob doesn't feel much like talking anymore. He and Embry excuse themselves, and Embry asks if he can reschedule for later this week. I doubt Jacob will be coming back with him.

BPOV

Edward and I spend the weeks following his return "learning each other" as he put it. I learn that he is a hella good cook, that he knows shit about the Brothers Coen nor Jim Jarmusch, and that he can hold his breath under water (in his hottub, specifically) for more than three minutes, much to my pleasure.

I also learn that Edward can be jealous and somewhat antagonistic when he's drunk. Last weekend we saw Felix, who always looks at me like I'm a giant Slurpee, and Edward kept one distrusting eye on him all night. That same night, Leah was a total fucking bitch, as usual, and Edward got a little bitchy right back. Then later, Jacob tried to pull rank, and Edward practically shouted "Mine!" with his body language and attitude, like I'm a shiny, little toy. But, I've managed worse, to be honest.

At the end of the day, I'll do just about anything to make this work with Edward. In this case, "just about anything" equals taking a Xanax and a shot of whiskey while Rose watches me change my outfit thirty-seven times and chew my nails to nubs. Today is Thursday, August 27. Delia and her nanny will be landing at Sardy Field in one hour.

"Bella, you'll do fine." Rose cracks the cap of a water bottle from my fridge. "She's not a Rubik's Cube, she's a little person." She takes a swig of her water. "And you're a people pleaser, which is a blessing and a curse, really, but the bottom line is, you'll be great. She's going to love you."

What Rose means by "a blessing and a curse" is that I typically do win people over - I've been told I could sell ice to an Eskimo. But when I don't win people over? I feel like a colossal failure, like I've let everybody down.

Edward and Emmett have invited Rose and I over for dinner, and to meet Delia. It's no secret to anyone that I know zero about children, but I keep telling myself that I'm making a bigger deal out of this than it actually is. I keep telling myself I just need to calm down.

"Okay, but if I fuck this up, I'm blaming it all on you." I kid, because we all know when I fuck up, it'll be no one's fault but my own.

I settle on jeans, a white, linen halter, and white espadrille wedges. I silently acknowledge that my outfit anxiety is probably more likely related to the fact that I am about to meet The Nanny, who lives with The Wife, as well as The Daughter, but I'm not willing to outwardly admit that insecurity just yet.

Rose and I walk to her car, which is parked over in front of Ben Cheney's little inn. He and my old co-worker, the previous tenant of the shoebox, Angela, got engaged New Year's Eve. They moved in together, and she's now helping him run the inn. They are the cutest fucking couple on the planet and it kind of makes me dizzy with inspiration.

"Deep breaths," Rose says as she rolls into Edward's car park. Edward's Audi and Emmett's Range Rover are both parked, so I assume that Delia and Heidi must have gotten in early.

"I'm practically hyperventilating," I mumble as she parks the car, and we climb out of our respective doors.

The entrance to Edward's house is wide open as we approach. I can hear Tchaikovsky playing throughout the house and laughter flowing easily from the kitchen.

Rose and I make our way down the corridor to the warm sounds, then I stop dead in my tracks.

Edward is facing the center island in his kitchen, laughing out loud, mouth open, as the most angelic looking creature I have ever seen tosses small, colored somethings at his face. He's scrunching up his nose, and Emmett is mocking his inability to catch said colored items.

"Bella," Edward breathes. He looks elated, happy to be there and to see me.

"Good evening, ladies!" Emmett greets us with a grin and a clap of his hands. He looks like a ringmaster welcoming his patrons to the main event. "You're just in time to see Edward get his A-S-S handed to him by a three-year-old girl."

Edward mock-frowns at Emmett and jokingly puts his hands over Delia's ears. "Bella, Rose, this is Heidi, Delia's nanny." Edward introduces me and Rose to The Nanny.

I see the statuesque brunette with peculiar, but beautiful, eyes and a knowing smirk, sealing a plastic container. She says "hello," and places what appears to be leftovers in the fridge. I briefly wonder where in Hell the people in Edward's life were created, because they're all stamped-out-of-the-mold perfection.

Edward scoops the perfect, blond doll off the counter and carries her across the room. He comes to a stop in front of me, a tiny angel perched on his hip.

"Bella, I want you to meet Delia." Edward's tone is soft and tender. Delia is clinging to the back of her daddy's neck with one hand, her other hand is clutching, what I assume are the colored surprises.

"Delia," Edward dips his head to look into her babyface. He holds her close and she looks shy, but curious. "This is Bella."

"Hi," I speak quietly. I give Delia a small wave and a smile. I am completely mesmerized. "It's nice to meet you, Delia."

Initially, all I wanted was to not disappoint Edward with my spectacularly inadequate knowledge of childcare. Now, I'm just… incredibly intrigued by this lovely, little being.

Delia buries her head in Edward's neck, still keeping one big blue eye on me. She smiles shyly before opening her palm to show me a handful of Gummi Bears.

"Nummi Beawrs?" she offers, making me wonder how she might say my name.

Even as kidtarded as I am, I know that when a kid offers to share their stash with you, you are _in_.

Edward tells me about their game to see who could catch the most Gummi Bears in his or her mouth, as he adjusts Delia on his hip. I accept one of the candies from Delia's outstretched hand, nodding in appreciation and fascination.

"And I'm the winner!" Emmett shouts from behind Edward as he walks around to our sides to embrace Rose. "Because Daddy E S-U-C-K-S." Emmett grins and kisses Rose's cheek lightly, muttering the words "beautiful as always."

He takes the bottle of wine that Rose is carrying and ushers her through the dining area, hand at the small of her back. I can hear Rose's laughter and Emmett's cheerful voice trailing as they leave the kitchen and make their way to the patio. I'm now alone with Edward, Delia, and Heidi.

"Can I take her off your hands, Mr. Cullen?" Heidi appears at Edward's side, smiling warmly. Edward kisses Delia's forehead and hands her over to Heidi, tentatively keeping his eyes on me.

"Now that she's had her supper, I'll just give her a bath and put her down for the night," Heidi says, as she smiles at Delia, lightly tapping the little girl's nose with her pointer finger, before turning back to me. "It's very nice to meet you, Bella."

I'm beguiled and overwhelmed. By The Nanny and a thirty-pound girl.

"It's great to finally meet you, too." I smile widely at Heidi, as Edward eyes me curiously. I think I'm doing pretty fucking well considering my lack of experience with children and their supermodel nannies.

"Daddy… see you in da moaning?" Delia asks, with a tiny bit of panic and longing in her eyes, as Heidi gracefully exits the kitchen with Delia on her hip.

"Yes, baby girl." Edward smiles. He meets Heidi and Delia on the landing of the back staircase to kiss Delia once more. "I'll see you in the morning, and make you anything you want for breakfast."

I'm usually pretty annoyed with kid speak, but for some reason, Delia asking her daddy if she will see him in the morning is at once the most heartbreaking and adorable fucking thing I have ever witnessed.

Heidi smiles at me before disappearing up the stairs. When I can no longer hear Heidi's footsteps, nor Delia's chatter, Edward turns to me, a tense expression on his face.

"So," he sighs and passes through the kitchen, entering the dining room, and then walking to the bar. I follow him. "How was your day?"

He seems distracted, and I'm still stunned by the small exchange in the kitchen.

"My day was pretty regular." I shrug, as Edward tosses three ice cubes in a glass before pouring whiskey over them. "But, your daughter kind of changed all that." I smile, and Edward's eyes flicker as he brings the glass to his lips.

Normally, Edward would offer me a drink before getting his own. I don't know what it means that he's doing the opposite.

"She's… absolutely beautiful, Edward." I want him to know how I'm feeling, but I'm having a hard time communicating that I'm in love with someone I just met ten minutes ago. Evidently Edward passed along his abilities to stun a person stupid with admiration to his little girl. "I wish we could have spent more time with her tonight."

"Yeah," he muses. "But, it was a long flight. Plus, with the time change, she should be in bed by now, so…"

"Oh," I respond dumbly. "Yeah, I don't really know all that stuff… But I guess she did look kind of tired, what with, ya know, laying her head on your shoulder… But, I guess, since you're her daddy, she probably does that kind of thing all the time, I mean, you're like, the perfect daddy, Edward, she's probably just so freakin' happy to be able to be near you again-"

"Bella." Edward chuckles and shakes his head. "It's okay. I know I'm a good dad." He points to his glass. "Do you want one?"

I remember my anti-anxiety potion from earlier and ask for a bottle of water instead. I just hope Edward doesn't think I was just paying him lip service by telling him he's the perfect daddy. I mean, what little girl in this world wouldn't want him as a daddy?

"You've got a serious bottled water addiction, do you know that?" Edward observes wryly.

"I just don't feel like drinking alcohol right now…" I don't want him to know that I decided to take a sedative and a shot of whiskey to meet his daughter. "I'll have a glass of wine with dinner."

Edward splashes a bit more whiskey into his glass and then pulls a Fiji from the mini-fridge behind the bar. He makes his way from around the bar, his long fingers extending the bottle of water to me.

I take it and untwist the cap, gulping half the bottle almost immediately. As Edward sips his drink, with one hand in the pocket of his cargo pants, he watches me swallow the cool water.

Edward spent the last few days getting the house Delia-ready. He and Emmett decorated one of the bedrooms, making it look like a Barbie dream house, and yesterday he spent about $800 at the City Market.

I know he was anxious to see her, and I know I was nervous to meet her. But now, I feel like our roles are reversed a little. His tense mood, which I cannot properly classify, is vibrating around the room.

I set my water bottle on the bar, and as I turn back to face him, he takes one of my hands in his and sets his glass on the bar. He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. His eyes are closed and he looks so tired.

"Thank you," he whispers, nuzzling my hand. I run my free hand through his hair. "I know this isn't easy for you, but I appreciate you trying."

"I'll do anything for you, Edward." I fully admit, once I say it out loud, that it's entirely true. I will do anything for this man. "Anything."

He breathes deep, pulls me close, places my hand on his shoulder, and lifts me onto a barstool by my waist. My back is against the bar, my hands are in his hair, and his hands are at the back of my neck.

"I wish we could tell Emmett and Rose to fuck off," Edward mumbles into my neck, as he grinds his hard cock into the crux between my thighs. "I'd give my 1947 Indian Chopper to be inside you right now."

"I love it when you talk dirty about your big, powerful, mechanical toys." I try to lighten the mood, smiling and breathing through his tense chuckle as he kisses my neck.

"Making fun of me, Bella?" There's an edge to Edward's voice, as he nips at my throat and licks my collarbone.

"Absolutely not." As edgy as the situation is, I'm wet for him. "I love motorcycles. They're such… _bad boy_ things."

Edward bites down hard on my shoulder. I shriek and he chuckles, pulling away from me just enough to look into my eyes, but still grinding his crotch into mine.

"You're making fun of me," he chastises, eyes burning, a combination of desire and strain. I wonder, briefly, what he's thinking, until Rose and Emmett noisily enter from the patio.

"Are we eating sometime tonight?" Emmett heckles. "Or should Rosie and I go down to Taster's for a pizza?"

Edward tells Emmett to "shut up and open the wine." He helps me down from the barstool and takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen.

"I made a white, vegetarian chili." He releases my hand to retrieve a soup terrine from the cupboard. "I think Heidi already prepared all the accoutrements. They should be…" He glances around the kitchen until his eyes light on a covered platter on the opposite side of the kitchen. "Ah, there it is. Will you grab that platter and take it into the dining room, please?"

Heidi is not only goddess-like in appearance, but she also knows when and how to put a child to bed, as well as prepare "accoutrements" for white chili. I may need an instruction booklet to keep up with Heidi.

"Of course," I agree. "It's the least I can do…"

Edward meets me in the dining room where Rose and Emmett are playing footsy, or some shit, under the table. I lift the lid off the platter, setting the lid to the side, and placing the platter in the center. Edward sets the chili in a similar position and we take our seats to enjoy our meal with friends.

EPOV

After dinner, the four of us clear the table and I put the remainder of the chili securely in a container in the refrigerator.

I watch Bella float about the kitchen. Part of me wants to nail her in the mudroom, and part of me wants to beg her to tell me that I'm overreacting.

The second I saw her tonight, I recognized the signs. Bella was medicated, probably the Xanax I've seen in her medicine cabinet. I'm starting to wonder if what she's said, that she'd try for me, that she'd do _anything_ for me, are silly promises that she doesn't understand.

Bella's younger than I am, she's only twenty-eight, plus she's an only child. I can't expect her to know what to do with children immediately, but it'd be nice if she didn't feel the need to be high in order to meet my daughter.

I hoped she would be pleased to meet Delia. Still, I can't help but wonder what Bella will say when Delia asks if olives are "born with those little Xs on their bottoms," or needs help with her shoelaces, or when she falls asleep in my bed. Fuck, I don't even know if Bella's ever babysat, and now I'll have to ask her to move over and make room for a three-year-old in bed.

"Let's get a fire going, E," Emmett suggests. I agree, because it's a cool night and I probably need to just chill and settle my mind.

But my mind doesn't settle. It races as I sit on the patio with Bella, Emmett, and Rose. They laugh and joke while I pretend to listen, my fingers kneading Bella's shoulders and neck, my hands in her hair, savoring. I can't stop thinking about how much I want the best of both worlds. I want both of my girls by my side.

Later, after the fire dies and Emmett takes Rose to bed with him, Bella follows me up the back staircase. I can hear her humming behind me, slow, melancholy.

"I'm just going to check on Delia," I whisper, and I try to gauge her reaction in the almost dark hallway. I wonder if she's pulling away from me, Delia's daddy, or just mindlessly humming a song she heard on the radio.

Bella nods her head and continues to walk to my room. I poke my head inside Delia's doorway. She's curled up, sleeping softly, strangling Mr. Gordo.

"'Night, Angel." I mumble into the silent room. She doesn't stir.

When I arrive to my room, Bella is slipping under the sheets, nude, with her dark eyes hooded, watching me. She's been so quiet, and right now she looks timid, like she did most of the first night we met. Out of her element, frightened.

I kick my shoes off, pull my Henley over my head, unfasten my cargo pants; all the while, I'm leaving a trail of clothes behind me, as I make my way to the bed. I climb in, over her body. We are wordless, molding bodies. She is warm and supple under me. She opens for me, her legs falling to the mattress.

She holds my face in her hands, kissing my jaw, and cradling my hips between her thighs. I've been hard for hours, discouraged, needing her. Desperate to reconcile this in my mind.

I don't know what to say. I'm so caught up in this quagmire of guilt and confusion that I can't even form words.

"Fuck me," she whispers. "I want to feel you."

She wants to know that we can persevere through the good and the bad. Our physical coupling seems to hold all the answers, as I reach for a condom and roll it on.

Bella looks like love and heartbreak as I slip inside her, clinging to this connection. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, squeezing her, pulling her with me as I sit upright, on my haunches. She straddles me, knees tight against my thighs. She rides me, kissing my mouth, biting and pulling on my lips, and I can't stop touching her.

My hands roam her delicate form from under her hair, down her neck and back to her hips, across her waist, up over her shoulders. I want to memorize every plane and every slope of her physique. I don't ever want to forget what she does to my body and my mind.

_I do not want to let go._

She bites my bottom lip and whimpers, fingers twisting in my hair, pulling. She comes hard and long, gripping my cock, vibrating. She's gasping, trembling, eyes shut tight.

She rides out the wave grinding her hips down on me. Her forehead lolls on my shoulder as I kiss her temple, place a hand at the back of her head, and gently lay her down.

I stay on my knees and lift her legs in my hands, fingers gripping her knees from behind. I keep a steady beat, hard in and slow out. Bella drapes an arm across her eyes and I can't abide.

I release one of her legs and slope forward to pin her arm to the mattress above her head. Bella's dazed expression takes me in, she's panting.

"This is it, Bella." I maintain my hard and constant pace. "You and me… just you and me."

She reaches out to me, running a finger over my thigh, and her brow is furrowed. I can't take my eyes off of her. Our gazes are locked as I come inside her with a groan.

I collapse and pull out of her body, discarding the condom in the wastebasket beside the bed. Bella rolls over and nestles into my side. She kisses my chest, wet. I bury my nose and hands in her hair, willing myself to catalogue her scent for future reference of bliss.

I don't sleep. I lie awake, staring at the ceiling as Bella dreams beside me. I hear my name and the word "love" whisper from her lips. I hope… I just hope.

"So, you were one-hundred percent pure weird last night," Emmett declares as he plops down at the breakfast table, coffee cup in hand. "What's up, man?"

Bella and Rose left early this morning, just after Delia's giggles and pattering, little footsteps were heard all over the house. I could hear Heidi outside my bedroom door telling Delia that she'd "just have to wait for Daddy to come out."

Bella stretched and groaned, rubbing her ass all over my cock. She slept nude last night, if we weren't using condoms, I could've just slipped right inside her, wet as she was. Instead, I grabbed a condom from the nightstand before pulling her leg back over my hip.

"Did you know Bella was medicated last night?" I ask Emmett, as I watch Delia playing with her dolls on the patio with Heidi.

"Medicated?" Emmett looks confused by my question. "She seemed fine to me, maybe a little quiet. Is she sick?"

"Xanax, Em." I can't believe he couldn't recognize it. "Because she's couldn't deal with Delia."

Emmett furrows his brow. "Did she tell you that?"

"No," I snap. "But I'm pretty familiar with the obvious signs of drug abuse."

"Whoa." Emmett holds up a hand. "We're talking about Bella here, not Tanya."

"I know she isn't Tanya, Emmett…"

"Do you?" Emmett's starting to get a little bit pissed. "Because I think you're being pretty hasty with the automatic assumptions that A) Bella was popping pills, B) it's because she can't handle Delia, and C) just because she may have taken a pill, she's automatically an abuser. You're judging her – harshly – and not even taking everything into consideration."

I sit and listen as Emmett outlines Bella's strengths – her compassionate nature, her commitment to her friends, her warmth, her sense of humor, and her "solid moral character." All of those things are true about Bella. So, why am I still questioning this?

"See, this is one of those times you're being a short-sighted asshat, E." Emmett wags his finger at me. "And frankly, I'm shocked as shit you could assume those things about Bella. I mean, you've built her up to be Wonder Woman, put her on a fucking pedestal for being so unlike anything and anyone you've ever known, but the second she does something familiar, or, ya know, _human_, you write her off."

Emmett shakes his head and takes another sip off coffee.

"I'm not… writing her off," I mumble and spin my coffee cup. "I'm just being cautious. For my daughter's sake."

Emmett rolls his eyes and says, "whatever," as he stands to refill his cup with the French Roast Heidi brewed this morning, while Bella and I were still in bed.

"_Yes," Bella moaned, sucking on my forearm that was wrapped around her neck, as I fucked her from behind, spooning. My long, middle finger was inside her with my cock, the heel of my hand over her clit…_

"Just talk to her, dumbass," Emmett asserts, as he wanders back to the table and eyes the local paper. "In the few months you've known each other, you've already established a pretty decent track record of talking things out. Odds are, she was just a little nervous. No big deal."

I know I can talk to Bella, but this isn't STIs or wedding rings. It's my _daughter_. If Bella can't deal, I don't know if I have the patience to walk her through it.

"Yeah," I placate him. "You're right, Em."

"When am I _not_ right, E?" Emmett snaps the paper in his hands and starts to read the cover story.

I pour more coffee into my mug and head out to the patio to sit with Delia. Heidi greets me brightly and says that since I've come out to sit with Delia, she's going to hop in the pool for a bit.

I pull Delia onto my lap and listen to her rattle on about Barbie's hair and eyes, and how she looks like Mommy. "Mommy's pretty," Delia says absently as she combs Barbie's hair.

"So are you, Princess." I squeeze her and she giggles.

I can't stomach the thought of being without her, and I pray that Bella won't make me choose.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"So, I'll just say this now and get it out of the way…" I inform Rose, as we buckle ourselves into her little, red sports car. "You were right about Delia."

She was right, and so was Peter. Even though I only spent five minutes in the same room as Delia, every ounce of anxiety I had melted the second we made eye contact. She was sweet and charming, and I'm psyched to get to know her better.

"Well..." Rose cranes her neck as she backs away from the wall in Edward's car park to swivel the car around. "There isn't a whole lot you can fuck up with a toddler. Plus, the cute factor is kind of overwhelming, especially with that one. God, she's beautiful."

I shake my head and smile. "I've just never been around kids. I've always thought they were the great, daunting mystery of life or something. Now I feel like a tool for taking Xanax."

Laurie wrote me a prescription to combat the divorce and work stress. It has definitely helped, but I don't feel I need it much anymore.

"I should tell Edward about last night," I sigh, as we cruise along Willoughby Way in the early morning sun. "He's always so honest with me and I don't want him to get the wrong idea, ya know?"

Rose is quiet for a minute, biting her bottom lip, and furrowing her brow.

"Sure." She shrugs and nods. "I mean, if you tell him in the context of the experience making you realize how much you adore his daughter, I'm sure he'll be grateful to hear you're not an addict, or whatever."

"An addict?" I scoff. "I took one Xanax. I doubt he'll think I'm an addict, Rose."

_Again with the lip biting. What is up with her?_

"Rose?" I tilt my head, trying to get a better view of her expression. "What am I missing?"

"Last night..." Rose turns her head quickly and looks me in the face, then back at the road, as we coast down Red Mountain. "Emmett told me some things. About Tanya, Edward's soon to be ex-wife."

I don't know what she's about to tell me, but it doesn't appear to be happy news. I feel my stomach flip.

Rose sighs as we slow at a stop sign. "Listen, I'm not suppose to know any of this. Edward doesn't even know all of it, and I kind of wish Emmett hadn't told me… But in light of the situation, I think you should know that Tanya's in rehab."

"Oh, my God." I feel my fingers on my lips and goose bumps crawl across my body.

"Yeah." Rose accelerates away from the stop sign. "Evidently, her sister convinced her to do it. Emmett says she's been popping Xanax and drinking since they were in college, but that it's gotten worse since Delia was born."

Rose eyes me curiously, surely trying to determine my reaction to this most unfortunate news.

"I didn't tell Emmett that you have a scrip, B," Rose assures me. "That's between you and Edward."

We drive in silence for a minute or two, until I remember that Edward has used my toothpaste and taken ibuprofen from my medicine cabinet.

"I've never hidden it from him." My mind starts to fly through all the times Edward has looked in my medicine cabinet. "I never thought it was a big deal. It's doctor prescribed, and I've never… abused it. Fuck."

We cross Main Street and drive the two blocks to my alley. Rose turns down the alleyway, and I look to her for some kind of affirmation. She parks her car next to Mike's Jetta, behind the restaurant.

"Bella, you didn't do anything wrong." Rose cuts the ignition and we each climb out of the car. "He's just sensitive to it, because of his experiences with Tanya. You two can work this out, if anybody can."

"I know I didn't do anything wrong, but he was acting so weird last night," I mumble, as Rose and I make our way up my stairs. "I wonder if he suspects…"

I wonder if he knows I took a pill to meet his daughter.

"Yeah, Emmett said he thought he was acting weird, too." Rose and I round the second flight of stairs to my balcony. "Emmett assumed Edward was just wound up about getting Delia settled."

"It got even worse when we went to bed." I walk to my door and unlock the screen. "You know how I told you what a dirty mouth he has… Well, he barely said eight words to me in bed last night. Even when I tried to get him going-"

_Fuck me... I want to feel you._

"He was so withdrawn."

Rose and I enter my apartment, I toss my keys on the little side table next to the door, and we find Angel sprawled across the top of the couch in a patch of sunlight. I scratch his furry little belly as he yawns and stretches.

"I need coffee." Rose drags over to my espresso machine. "Then we'll go to the gym. Ninety-minute Pilates classes at seven-thirty in the morning make me feel a little bit like cutting someone. And Limore is going to kick my ass today, I am so tired. That bitch is _militant_."

"Well, it could be because she trained with the Israeli army," I snark, as I kick my wedges into my "closet" and drop my bag to the floor.

"B," Rose faces my direction from her stance in front of the Gaggia she's just switched on. "You'll work this out. The trust you two have built already can only be strengthened by this kind of bump. You'll be fine."

"I know." I sigh again, heavy and loud, relieving tension. "I'm just debating whether I should bring it up to him, or wait for him to bring it up."

"Well, we're going out for dinner tonight, right?" Rose hits the button on the machine and dispenses two shots.

"Yeah, but I can't exactly talk about this over gnocchi." I remove my clothes from the night before, in front of Rose because we have no pride, and I pull my clothes for Pilates out of a drawer. "I mean, not in public. Plus, The Glamazon will be there. I don't need a live audience."

"Please." Rose snorts and starts to steam her skim milk in the pitcher. "Like she cares. I have a hard time believing that she's hanging around as the nanny with no ulterior motive, knowing what she _has_ to know living in that house."

"Perfect." I yank my Pranas over my thighs. "Just what I needed to hear; the superhot awesome-with-kids chick is after my boyfriend."

Rose giggles like a maniac, which is a rare and frightening experience. "Bella…" She's laughing so hysterically, I'm afraid she might choke on her tongue. "Heidi's gay!" I might have to do CPR. "Oh, man… I guess Edward hasn't had a chance to tell you. You know, maybe you two should stop fucking so much and talk more. You miss all the good gossip."

I stand there in my yoga pants, topless, staring at Rose in disbelief.

"Yeah," Rose nods animatedly, pouring her milk over her espresso in one of my giant, Great White Pottery Barn latte mugs. She has a huge grin on her face, because she just divulged the juiciest piece of Cullen intel since Peter told me Edward was separated. "Emmett told me last night. And he's convinced Heidi has a thing for Tanya."

"Wow." I blink, still topless.

Rose continues to chuckle and segue into blabbing on about how funny and handsome and sweet Emmett is, while I decide to stop the exhibitionism and pull my lavender Lotus bra top over my head. I suppose I should be relieved that the Victoria's Secret model isn't hot for Edward, but I'm still too stuck on the headline of "Tanya is in Rehab" to focus on any other news.

Rose and I take our lattes to go and head to the gym for Limore, the taskmaster, to work us over. Limore is tough, but sweet, and she's hilarious. She's usually good for getting my mind off the day and its troubles, but today, all I can think about is how to talk to Edward about Xanax Gate. I feel like this little pill has become the equivalent of his stupid fucking business card.

I decide to walk home after Pilates, and Rose drives to her condo. She only lives four blocks from me, but I want to be alone. I make a detour to City Market and grab a box of sushi for lunch, because I know once I get started with my work day, I won't want to take a break. Which is good, because I need to keep my mind off of my present stress and whiny brain.

Before heading home, I stop at Parallel 15 for a decaf latte and a chat with Peter.

"Mommy Isabella!" Peter jests as I descend the stairs. I see three people I know and briefly consider ordering a fully caffeinated quadruple latte with a shot of whiskey to discourage any forming Bella is Pregnant with the Evil Lawyer's Baby rumors.

"How was the meeting with The Daughter and The Nanny?" He starts to make me a decaf, because he knows I always order decaf after nine in the morning. Thank God Peter's better with espresso roast and lattes than he is with the Italian roast at his house.

"Good." I belly up to the coffee bar and hang my bag over the back of my chair. "I mean, I only saw her for five seconds, but she offered me a Gummi Bear." I shrug.

Peter starts to steam the milk, smiling over his shoulder at me. "Well, that sounds like a success to me, Love."

"Hey, Bella." I hear Garrett's voice from behind me and feel his lips against my cheek.

"Hey, Garrett." I watch him take a seat beside me and sip his coffee.

I stay and chat with the boys for much longer than I planned. It's almost eleven when I finally get home and into the shower. I dry my hair straight, then put on my new jeans with a wife beater and my brown corduroy jacket. I snag my bag with my laptop and my lunch, and head to the office.

It looks like Rose has already come and gone. I check our messages and as I'm filing a few invoices, my phone buzzes with a text from Edward.

He says "hi" and that he misses me. I really need to talk to him, so I ask if we can be alone before dinner. He tells me that Heidi is out for the afternoon, and Emmett is working. I wonder if three-year-olds take naps, and if they do, maybe we can talk then, but Edward ends up telling me that he'll try to get Emmett to watch her. I agree to talk after dinner, if that doesn't work.

I feel a little more settled with our agreement to talk. At least we have a plan, even though I don't know exactly what I'll say. I just wish I could talk to him right now.

I pull my sushi out of my bag and crack the box open.

"Mmm…" I moan to no one in particular at the first bite of sea urchin. It's not nearly as delicious as Nobu would make, but it's good enough for grocery store sushi. "Uni? Why are you so awesome?"

Edward texts me several times, telling me he's asked Emmett to come home, and that Emmett is "ignoring" his texts. Which is ridic, because Emmett doesn't ignore anything. He's one of the most straightforward people I've ever known. I tell Edward not to worry, and that we'll just talk after dinner. No big.

I leave my office around six-fifteen, tired, sticky, and wishing I could take another shower before dinner. Our reservations are for six-thirty, though, so I need to hustle. I stop at the Forks Store and buy a pack of Camel Lights.

_Maybe a cigarette will make me feel less icky. Maybe it's just nerves._

I light a cigarette and feel even more light-headed, so I stab it into the nearest brick wall and toss it into a trash bin. I don't know why I feel so gross, but I hope I get over it soon, because I can't afford to get sick right now.

EPOV

After Emmett laid into me this morning, I changed into running clothes, cranked "Songs for the Deaf" on my iPod to eleven, and ran seven miles.

I realize I may be jumping the gun with regard to Bella's Xanax usage. She's been through a lot with her divorce and starting her own business. She has the right to take care of herself. And I trust that she'd do it responsibly. I respect her, and I care for her more than… But, I need to be sure my daughter is safe, too.

By the time I return home, Emmett is nowhere to be found, probably at meetings, and Heidi is making "roni and cheese," as Delia would call it.

Since I don't have meetings today, I choose to work from home and spend more time with my little girl. We eat lunch and discuss the merits of her "T for Troy" necklace. I'm not wild about the fact that my three-year-old daughter has a crush on a celebrity, but I suppose I just need to learn to roll with the punches.

After lunch, I call Jasper and he agrees to bring Alice and join us for the dinner we have planned tonight. He recommends L'Hostaria, saying the food and service are high-end, and that the establishment is more than accommodating to families.

Jasper and I hang up and I make a call to book our reservations. I tell the woman on the phone my name, and that I was referred by Jasper Whitlock.

"And I'd like to make a reservation for eight, including one toddler, at six-thirty."

"Great!" she chirps. "My name is Jane, so if I'm not at the door, just ask for me. I'll have a booster ready for you, and just so you know, Aro, the owner, has a little one as well. Maybe she'll be around tonight, so they can meet."

"Yes," I respond, glancing at Delia as Heidi wipes her hands and face with a warm cloth. "We'll need a booster. And that would be nice for Delia to meet a playmate. Thanks."

I remind Jane of my name, and we end the call. I place the phone in the cradle on the kitchen island. Heidi tells me that she wants to check out the Forks Club, maybe take a yoga class.

"Of course." We clear the lunch dishes, rinsing them, and placing them in the dishwasher, as Delia sloppily traces her tiny hand with a green marker onto a pink piece of construction paper. "I'd recommend Asia. I've heard she's the best yoga instructor in the valley. And I've seen her - she's hot."

Heidi rolls her eyes and chuckles. "Nice. Here I am, trying to maintain professionalism, while my boss tries to set me up on dates."

I smile and wipe my hands on a dishtowel before leaning into the counter. "I just want you to enjoy your time here, Heidi."

Heidi is nothing but professional. She has always referred to me as "Mr. Cullen" in the company of others, including my wife and daughter, no matter how many times I tell her to call me Edward. Heidi is hyperaware of the Nanny After the Daddy Myth.

"Thanks." She sighs. "I'll just go change and head out, then. Unless you need me to put Delia down for a nap?"

"No, no." I step away from the counter and lightly pat her on the back. "You go on. I'll put her down. Enjoy your afternoon. Dinner's at six-thirty, so we should probably leave at six-fifteen. Don't worry about us 'til then."

Heidi smiles and nods, then strides across the floor to ruffle Delia's hair, before leaving the kitchen.

"Okay, Princess," I say to Delia, who is now covered in green marker. "Let's go take a nap." I take the marker from her hand and recap it, before leaving it on the table. "Daddy's _tired_. Do you think you can help me sleep?"

I pick her up and kiss her face. When I pull away, she rests her little palms against my cheeks and furrows her brow. "Why you so tired, Daddy?" Baby voice, big girl concern.

"I stayed up too late with Uncle Emmett and our friends," I explain, as I climb the stairs to my rooms. "Even grown-ups need lots of rest."

"I like your friends, Daddy." Delia drops her head to my shoulder, and I cross the threshold and the room to my bed.

"Well, they like you, too." I lay her down and pull a throw from the chaise in the corner of the room, draping it across her tiny form.

"Bella's pretty…" Delia is already falling asleep by the time I sit down next to her to tuck her in. She's so easy to get to sleep. The Ls in Bella's name come out like Ws, and it makes me smile.

"Yes, she is." Delia still thinks about the women in her life as beautiful Disney princesses.

As I watch Delia drift off to sleep, I pull my iPhone from my pocket, deciding to text Bella. I haven't seen her or talked to her since she left this morning, and I miss her. I'm thinking and feeling a lot of confusing things right now, but of missing her, I am certain.

_hi._

I recline into my pillows and rest my arm around Delia's sleeping form. In just a few minutes, my phone vibrates against my knee.

_hey. how are you this afternoon?_

_missing you. you?_

A few minutes pass before my phone vibrates once again.

_i'm okay. can we talk before dinner? alone? i need to get something off my chest._

I try not to think about all the things Bella could want to talk about, like not being willing or able to play Mommy or even Aunt Bella. But, they just met, and I haven't asked that of her.

_heidi's off until dinner, so I have delia. can it wait 'til after?_

A few minutes pass and she doesn't reply, so I text her again.

_if emmett stops in, i'll see if he's willing to sit with delia. does that work?_

I get an almost immediate response.

_that'd be great, but I don't want to cause any trouble. after dinner is fine, if he can't help out._

Bella is always so obliging.

_okay. i'll let you know as soon as i hear from him. is everything okay?_

I hope that maybe she'll give me a little clue about the agenda for our meeting. Several minutes pass before she finally responds.

_yeah. i just want to talk._

"Well," I say out loud, to a quiet room and my sleeping daughter. "That tells me nothing."

_okay, baby. i'm here for you. i'll see what I can do._

The last text I get from her is a simple "K", and Emmett never returns my phone calls or texts. He waltzes in the door at six o'clock and I pounce.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I whisper, because Delia doesn't need to hear me swear at Uncle Emmett.

"What?" Emmett reaches into the refrigerator for a beer and glares at me. "I was in meetings all fucking day. I _just_ walked out of my last one, climbed in my car and drove up here. I haven't even checked my phone…"

He pulls his phone from his pocket. He turns it on and starts to laugh.

"Dude." Emmett shows me the screen of his phone. "You texted me eight times. Did somebody die? Because I can see the Cullen angel over there, enjoying a tasty graham cracker, so I know she's fine."

He scrolls through his phone, reading my messages, and understanding dawns on his face.

"Oh." Emmett grimaces. "Sorry."

"Yeah," I hiss. "Bella needed to talk to me. And now we have to go to dinner in public."

I sigh, realizing I'm being a little severe with him.

"Never mind." I shake my head. "I'm just so fucking wound up. I want to know what she has to say, and I've got shit to say…"

Emmett puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Stop being a spaz. Everything will be fine. Just talk to her."

Emmett takes a gulp of his beer before dropping it on the counter on the way to the table where Delia is sitting, watching Dora the Explorer. He lifts her above his head and gives her a raspberry on her belly. She giggles wildly.

Heidi joins us in the kitchen and thanks me for recommending Asia. "She really is awesome." She smiles and reaches into the refrigerator for a bottle of water, offering me a beer.

"Good, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." I accept the bottle from her hand and twist the top off. "I got paper, Em," I say, as I show him the underside of the cap. "Paper covers rock. You lose."

Session Lager bottle caps play Rock, Paper, Scissors. I noticed Emmett's cap lying on the counter and he had rock.

We finish our drinks and I grab Heidi's keys from the counter. I rented a Volvo station wagon for her while she's here, and we put Delia's car seat in the back.

"Here." I hand Heidi the keys. "You drive. I'll sit in back with my girl. Come on, baby," I say to Delia. Let's go have some spaghetti, 'kay?"

Delia toddles over to me and takes my hand. The four of us venture to the car park and load inside, buckling up.

We park in front of the restaurant, enter through the patio, and are immediately welcomed by a tiny platinum blond who reminds me of a photo negative of Alice.

"Hi there!" She greets us brightly. "Do you have a reservation?"

"We do." I smile. "The name is Cullen. We have-"

"Oh, yes!" She bounces, so much like Alice. "Your party is waiting for you. Right this way, Mr. Cullen."

"I assume you're Jane?" I ask, as we make our way to a table where Bella, Rose, Alice, and Jasper are already seated.

"Yes." Jane smiles brightly and waves her hand to indicate where we should sit. "And I assume this is Delia."

Delia sticks her fingers in her mouth and lays her head on my shoulder, shy with the overzealous stranger.

"This is Delia," I confirm.

I notice that Bella is watching me closely as the rest of our friends settle in and say "hello." I smile at her and hear Jane ask Delia how old she is. Delia holds up three fingers.

"She's three, but she'll be four on Sunday." I look into Delia's face. "Right, baby? Can you show her four?"

Delia rubs her face back and forth across my neck, shaking her head, "no."

"Typical woman." Emmett laughs. "Doesn't want to reveal her true age."

Everyone at the table laughs politely except Rose, who rolls her eyes and picks up a menu, and Bella, who's still staring at me.

I drag the booster seat over to the space next to Bella on the banquette. I don't think I'm assuming too much, because the only seat left open is a chair beside that spot, and I want to be close to Bella, but keep an eye on Delia.

"Do you mind?" I ask Bella, and her eyes soften as she watches me put Delia in her seat.

"Of course not." Her voice is light and friendly, but she looks uncomfortable. She's pale and fidgeting. She brings her hand up to the back of her neck and rubs, a sign of nervousness and tension, then she exhales deeply, blinking rapidly.

"I'm sorry we didn't get together earlier." I take her unoccupied hand and lean forward speaking quietly. "Emmett didn't get home until six…"

"'Sok," she responds. "I had a lot to do this afternoon anyway. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" Bella asks the rest of the table, distractedly.

Rose looks concerned and her eyes shift to mine briefly before answering, "Maybe you should take your jacket off. It's cute, but Sheryl Crow is no designer. I hate the fabrics she uses."

Bella nods and removes her little, brown corduroy jacket. I help her slip it from behind her body, then I hang it on the back of my chair.

"Heidi-" Alice leans across the table, slapping a hand down in front of Heidi, making her jump slightly. "I have the _perfect_ girl for you."

"Ali, darlin'..." Jasper touches her forearm, trying to run interference. "The girl has been in town for less than a day. Leave her be."

Alice scrunches up her nose at Jasper and waves him off. He rolls his eyes and shrugs at Heidi as if to say, "I did what I could," before leaning back and taking a sip of his water.

"Seriously." Alice resumes her pep rally. "She's tall, beautiful, South African… Any interest?"

Heidi laughs and shakes her head at the pushy, little busybody. "I think I'd have to meet her first, Alice, but, thanks. I know you're always looking out for me."

Alice has been trying to hook Heidi up since she found out she's lesbian. Even though Alice has only ever spoken to Heidi a handful of times, she's eager for her to have the perfect life partner. Alice just wants everyone to be as happy as she says she is with Jasper.

I notice Bella's hand on her stomach, and she shifts in her seat.

"Bella?" I turn to give Bella my full attention once again, when Delia knocks a glass of water over on the table.

"Shit," Bella gasps from the ice water. Her hand flies to her mouth, her wide eyes darting between me and Delia, as I try to wipe the spilled water and ice with a napkin. "Oh… I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," I answer Bella quickly, and Delia starts to cry. "No, no, baby. It's okay. It's just an accident. See? We'll get it all cleaned up."

Suddenly, Jane is at my side with a towel and a dustpan. "I've got it, Mr. Cullen."

"Oh, thanks, Jane." I sigh and reach over to pull Delia out of her seat.

Ice chips and water fall from Delia's lap, and Heidi offers to take her to the ladies room. "Delia, it's okay, baby girl. It was an accident, and Heidi will get you all clean and dry, okay?"

Heidi whisks Delia away and Jane is gone in an instant. Bella looks shell shocked and even paler than before.

"I need to use the restroom." She hops up from her seat and rushes away from the table.

I make eye contact with Rose, and I feel my face contort, questioning, concerned. Rose shrugs, looking just as concerned, and I feel lost. Our server takes our drink orders as Heidi returns to our table.

"Crisis averted," she announces. "But Bella left," Heidi says as she settles Delia back in her seat. "She said she wasn't feeling well? She said not to worry about her, and that she'd text you later."

"Ugh," Rose shivers. "It's probably that nasty Uni she ate at lunch. I swear to God, I do not know how she puts that shit in her mouth."

Rose pulls out her phone. I assume she's texting Bella. After she replaces her phone into her bag, I text Bella myself. Delia makes a mess with the bread sticks and asks for "pasghetti". We order our meals, and Bella doesn't reply to me.

Our food arrives and I slip onto the bench between Rose and Delia. "Have you heard back from her?" I ask.

"Nope," she answers, and shakes her head slowly. "But, like I said, it could be the sushi. Modern man should never consume sea urchin from a grocery store."

I sigh and turn my attention back to my meal, cutting up the pasta and pushing some onto a plate for Delia. I take a few bites and it tastes like paste in my mouth. I pull out my phone and text Bella again.

_are you at home?_

We finish our entrees and our server asks if we're interested in dessert. "I heard you have the most _amazing_ tiramisu." Alice beams and the server begins to tell us about the dessert items.

"You know," Rose begins quietly, leaning into me. "I'm sure that between the five of us, we could handle Delia."

I look her in the eyes and know that I need to go.

"Thanks." I toss my napkin to the seat and kiss Delia goodbye. I notice Bella's jacket on the back of my chair, which gives me an uneasy feeling. Her departure definitely was not planned. She left hastily, so either she's really sick, or really freaked about the water/crying incident. Either way, I need to see her.

I grab her jacket and weave a path through the dining room. I barely register the two-block walk to Bella's apartment, but the air is chilly, making me worry about her walking, even such a short way, in just a tank top.

I climb her stairs, two at a time, and stop in front of her entrance. The inner door is ajar, and she's lying in the fetal position on the couch. I tap lightly on the screen door before opening it and she groans.

"Bella?"

She sighs and rolls over. She's been crying. I sit on the ottoman and smooth a hand down her thigh, trying to comfort her.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't know," she sniffles. "My stomach is killing me, your daughter hates me, I'm sweating-"

"Bella, she doesn't hate you," I refute softly. "You've spent about ten minutes together, there's no way she could hate you."

Bella scoffs and rolls away from me.

"But, this sudden illness. And the Xanax?" She turns quickly, looking alarmed. "It makes me wonder if you're not just making excuses, so you don't have to deal."

Bella scrambles to a sitting position and looks like she might yell. Or vomit. "You're joking, right?"

"What am I supposed to think, Bella?" I shrug. I don't know that she's avoiding Delia, but she isn't telling me otherwise. "Delia's only been here for a day, but you've been pretty scarce. And when you have been around, you've been medicated or sick."

She shakes her head vehemently. "No wonder you were all weird and quiet last night. You think I can't handle this. Everybody thinks, 'Oh, silly, little, child-like Bella, can't hack the real world with all the other big people'."

She shoves me out of the way, gripping her stomach, and heads to the kitchen area.

"Well, you know what Mr. Big Shot Steam Shower? I'm an adult." She pounds her fist on her pub table and turns back to face me, counting off on her fingers. "I pay my own fucking bills, I have my own business, my car is paid for, I have a clean driving record, I volunteer at the animal shelter, and I could put a fucking toddler to bed with the best of them if given a chance! So… fuck you!"

With that, she turns and heaves into the kitchen sink.

I sit for a second, stunned at the speech she just gave. I fully realize Bella is an adult, that isn't the issue. But her display of passion just now, certainly dispels any doubts I may have had that she's up for a challenge.

I stand and approach her retching form. I pull her hair back with one hand and stabilize her with my other. She needs support, and no matter how angry you are with the people you love, you don't abandon them.

"Go away, Edward," Bella moans.

"I was being a jackass, Bella," I admit. "And you have every right to be pissed at me, but I'm not leaving you alone like this."

"You ARE a jackass!" Bella shouts and dry heaves, gripping the counter tightly. "You're just like everybody else…" She sniffles and her body slumps.

I pull her back against my chest and steer her into the bathroom, lowering us both to the floor. I pull a washcloth from her shelf, where her multi-colored towels are neatly folded, and wet the cloth under the tap, as Bella opens the toilet.

She heaves a few more times. I rest the cool cloth on the back of her neck and hold her hair, before I pull a hair clip from the basket full of junk on the back of her toilet.

"There," I whisper as I loosely fasten her hair out of her face. "Tell me what you're feeling." My hands lightly stroke her back, soothing.

"I feel stupid," she mumbles through tears and panting breaths. "Like a poser. Like I have no business being with somebody with kids and a nanny…"

I was asking how she was feeling physically, trying to get to the bottom of the puking, but I'm derailed by her "we don't belong together" slant.

"Well," I continue to rub her back as her breathing calms. "How do you think I feel? I move here, and you know everyone, including the Tattoo Guy. You have these amazing friends and a brilliant career, and everybody loves you, Bella."

"Everybody?" She sniffles again and her lip trembles. Her head is resting on her arm and she turns it to look up into my face through her wet lashes.

"Everybody," I answer softly, and kiss her cheek. "Rose loves you." I kiss her earlobe. "Peter loves you." I kiss her temple, lingering. "And I love you."

Bella sobs and turns fully into me, hugging me. "I love you, too." Her voice is hoarse from crying and being sick. I feel her shiver.

"Do you feel like taking a warm shower?"

_Asks Mr. Big Shot Steam Shower._

She nods her head and sniffles again. "I'm sorry I'm so gross…"

"Don't be sorry." I laugh as I help her up from the floor, before turning the shower knobs on. "I'm going to leave you alone for a minute, while I go to the corner store for some Sprite. Do you want anything else?"

Bella shakes her head and shoves her jeans over her thighs. "Just Sprite. And maybe some Alka-Seltzer?"

I pull her into my arms after she kicks her jeans to the side. "I'll be back before you know it." I kiss her forehead and leave her apartment, jogging down the stairs and the two-and-a-half blocks to the Forks Store on the corner of Galena and Main.

I grab a 2-liter of Sprite, Alka-Seltzer, some Pepto-Bismol, and a box of Saltines. I pay for the items and jog back to Bella's. She's still in the shower when I get there, so I pop the 2-liter in the freezer, kick my off my shoes, pull my Stoli t-shirt over my head, and slip out of my jeans.

I slide into the tiny shower stall behind her. "Can I help?" I gently place one hand on her belly and kiss her shoulder.

"No," she replies, and leans back into me. "I'm all done. But I'm starting to feel a little woozy again, so I think I need to get out."

"K." I climb back out of the shower and grab a fresh towel for Bella. She steps gingerly out of the shower after turning the water off, and I wrap her up, holding her close, quiet.

"You told me you loved me," Bella mumbles into my chest.

"And you told me you loved me." I nod and run my hands slowly up and down her back.

"Oh, boy…" Bella moans. "I think I'm gonna boot."

I grab the clip again and secure her clean hair away from her face. She kneels and gags a little, and I tie a towel around my hips before going to the kitchen to pour her a glass of Sprite over ice. It hasn't been chilling long enough to be cold.

I hear the toilet flush and she gargles, as I pull her out her futon and stretch the sheet across the mattress. I remove her pillows and comforter from the ottoman as she wanders into the living area.

"Thank you," Bella mumbles as she takes a sip of the Sprite through the little, bendy straw and grimaces. "I'm sorry I said 'fuck you' to you."

"No more apologies tonight," I say, as I motion for her to get under the covers. "Lay down and relax. We'll talk more when you're feeling better."

"Okay." Bella sighs and groans as she swings her legs onto the bed. "But we need to talk about the Xanax, and your attitude, and how much I love your daughter."

"We will, baby." I lay down next to her, on top of the comforter. We're facing each other, and Bella looks small and frail. "As soon as you're feeling better." I run my hand lightly down the side of her face, and her eyelids flutter. "But, I know that you have that scrip for Xanax, and I'm sure it's for a good reason. I'm just sensitive to it, because Delia's mom has a bit of a problem with it."

"I only have it for stress." Bella flinches in pain again, clutching her stomach under the sheets. "And I rarely take it."

"I know." I nod my head and settle my hand on her hip. I look at the clock on Bella's stove and it's after nine. She's been suffering like this for hours now. "I know not everyone abuses it. I just had a knee-jerk reaction, coupled with my own anxiety about you liking Delia and us blending our lives… We're going to be fine, though. I just panicked."

"Ugh." Bella sticks her tongue out. "Will you grab the garbage can from under the sink? I can't imagine that I have anything left to barf, but… just in case."

I hop up and sprint to the kitchen for the garbage can. She must have emptied it earlier today and replaced the liner, which is fortunate, because I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want to look at coffee grounds and eggshells in her condition.

"Here ya go." I set the can next to her side of the bed. "Do you think Pepto-Bismol would help?"

Bella rolls over and nods, dry heaving over the can. "Yeah," she chokes. "Maybe."

I retrieve the pink bottle from the convenience store bag and break the seal. Bella sighs heavily and sinks back into her pillow. I pour some of the liquid into the little plastic cup and hand it to her. She props herself up on one elbow and sips the thick concoction until it's gone.

We don't say much else, but Bella moans from time to time, heaving, whimpering.

"Food poisoning is never fun," I state plainly as I stroke her brow, her cheek, and her jaw. "I've had it twice, and both times I thought I was going to die."

"Fucking Uni," Bella mutters as she sips her Sprite.

Some time around ten-thirty, Bella drifts off to sleep as I'm skimming through The Drudge Report on her MacBook. I watch her sleep, as I often do, and I think about my parents coming to Forks for Delia's birthday this weekend. I think it might be time for my mother and Pops to meet my saving grace.

**End notes: BELLA IS NOT PREGNANT.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

I wake up in a haze on Saturday morning, hearing a rush of sound. I feel like I'm being pulled through a tiny portal. I'm afraid I may lose an eyeball or something, it's so painful. Once I'm fully awake, and the sunlight streaming through my window shades is blinding the fuck out of me, I remember my misguided decision to consume grocery store Uni and my subsequent swearing at Edward.

Edward, who is warm and naked, curled around my body, protecting, but not stifling, filling in my faulty gaps, and asking for nothing more than my cooperation and… love.

Yep. He loves me and I love him. We said it last night. Right after I called him a jackass, said "fuck you," then barfed into my kitchen sink. Wow. I am a class act.

Which brings me to one of the things I love about Edward. No matter how gross or rude I was last night, he stuck by me. And no matter how uncomfortable I was with letting him see me that way, and how fucking pissed I was at the thought that he might have been treating me like the child that Jacob and every other man in my life has ever treated me, I still wanted him there with me. Because deep down, I know that I can trust him. That he'll take care of me when I need it, and let me take care of him when he needs it.

I gingerly disentangle myself from Edward's arms. I hear him groan and I turn to look at his pretty, scruffy face. Part of me still feels remnants of the wonk that is food poisoning and part of me, and I'm beginning to fear just how dominant that part is, wants to roll him over and ride him into next century.

_Down, Bella! At least pee and brush your scummy teeth first._

I make my way to my bathroom to do my business, and I mix myself a little Alka-Seltzer while I'm in there. I feel guilty again for being such a dick to Edward. He totally ran down the street to get me medicine and stuff, and I called him names.

Still, in my feeble, poisoned mind, Edward was dismissing me as naïve, inexperienced, not-ready-for-the-real-world. While I may not be ready to trade in my off-road vehicle for a minivan, I think I can handle getting to know his toddler a little bit better. Not only can I handle it, I'm fucking psyched about it.

I come out of the bathroom, and Edward is denim-clad, barefoot, and shirtless. He's talking on his phone to Heidi, from the sounds of it. His gaze lands on me, and he's concerned.

I watch him end his call before he waltzes into the kitchen. "Morning, baby." He kisses the tip of my nose and lightly brushes his fingers down my arms. He switches on the espresso machine and the lights blink green as it heats up.

"Morning," I whisper. My throat is still parched, even after mouthwash and teeth brushing, so I swallow down my stomach medicine in four gulps.

Edward smiles slow and warm, the perfect face to wake up to, nodding his head at my glass as I set it on my pub table. "Stomach any better?" He pulls me into his arms and I'm all wrapped up.

"Still a little sore," I talk to his hard, bare chest, my hands finding a home there.

"I bet," Edward replies, nice and quiet, not wanting to disturb me. "You were pretty sick. I almost hurt for you." He releases me to turn and inspect the progress of the Gaggia, before punching the button. "Do you want some tea, maybe? It might help you feel a little better."

I nod in agreement and reach for the cabinet door to retrieve the box of Tazo Awake and honey that I keep in there.

"I'll get it for you, love." Edward stills my hand, mid-motion, with one of his own. The long fingers on his other hand wrap around the newly filled demitasse. He brings the espresso to his lips and sips, eyes sparkling. His body amazes me; long arms, long torso, taut and reaching. He almost entirely fills my kitchen with his presence.

I realize my thoughts are wandering and I feel like I might still be asleep or dreaming, because I can't seem to stop staring at the pretty, pretty...

"Go relax, baby." Edward smiles, flipping the switch on the water kettle. "I'll bring your tea to you."

I wander into the living area and recline on the couch, feet propped up on the ottoman. It doesn't escape my attention that whenever Jacob tried to take care of me like this it bugged the shit out of me.

"So, you were being kind of assumptive last night, don't you think?" I pick a fight with my eyes closed, because I know Edward will bite. And God knows I like being bitten. "I just hope you know that I wasn't avoiding or running away."

I feel a dip in the couch cushion and I can smell Edward, espresso, and honeyed tea. I peek at him with one eye and his expression is smug and challenging.

_He'll never let me off easy, and I fucking LOVE that about him. Can we fuck now, please?_

"Well, Bella…" He hands me a steaming mug of black tea, and I consider whether or not it will make me puke. "You weren't exactly forthcoming with information. All you said was Delia's beautiful-" I make a weird little interrupt-y sound as I blow on my tea and consider telling him that the Xanax prevented me from forming a coherent sentence. Then I realize that may not be the best retort at this time. "And I already know how beautiful she is. She's my daughter."

His eyes dare me to argue, and I roll mine. "Edward, " I sigh. "We had all of eight seconds alone after dinner the other night before you mounted me-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Edward shakes his head and smirks. His body is tense. I can't tell if he's pissed, or turned on like I am. "Stop trying to turn this around, Bella. Besides, you and I both know sex between us is never one sided." I'm stuck in place with his eyes, a butterfly on a pin. He uses his fingers to make a list. "First of all, you expressed that you were intimidated. Then, you show up at my house, clearly under the influence of narcotics-"

"_Narcotics_, Edward?" I pull my feet from my ottoman and turn to sit cross-legged on the couch, mirroring him and grasping my hot-to-the-touch mug between two hands. "Please." I roll my eyes again. "That is not how it all went down, and you know it."

"I'm saying it all happened pretty fast." Edward continues to stare at me pointedly. "And from my perspective, it looked a lot like you were avoiding when you up and left the restaurant last night, directly after Delia dumped ice water in your lap."

He pauses, and I close my eyes and sigh, reveling in this moment where Edward and I are arguing. We're having an argument, about something that is emotional and real and important. I'm not afraid that he's going to leave me or lie or pretend it's inconsequential.

"Bella." His hands are warm on my thighs as he leans toward me. He lightly caresses my bare skin. His voice is almost a whisper. "I wasn't sure, but I wanted to _be_ sure, so I pushed, and I'm sorry that you felt I doubted you."

Edward knows the importance of trust in a relationship. I think he knows that I've never felt _really_ trusted, on a personal level, by anyone other than Rose and Peter.

"But, Bella…" Edward's hand is on my knee, nudging my legs, finger and thumb traveling up my inner thigh. "I could never doubt you. It was the situation that I doubted. I wasn't sure you'd want this."

I open my eyes and see vulnerability. It breaks my heart to think I might be responsible for reducing such a strong, confident man to this. It's sexy and sweet, though, that he wants so much to be with me that he'd lay himself bare. Plus, it puts that guy I met the night of Peter and Garrett's anniversary, the guy who grabbed my rubber-banded wrist and called me out, scaring the fuck out of me, into a three-dimensional perspective. This moment makes him real, and I love him all the more.

"I wasn't sure you'd want to be with a dad." He looks down at his hands. His fingers are drawing circles inside my thighs. He thinks I didn't want him. "But your speech convinced me." His eyes meet mine once again and there's fire there. The challenge is back, and I want him so much.

"Not that I needed to be told that you're passionate and that you have conviction…" He arches a brow, his hand now gripping my thigh, light but persistent. "But when you reacted the way you did, I realized I've always known that you can handle this and nail it." His grip tightens, as he pulls me closer to his body.

The natural pull between us brings me forward and onto him, my knees on either side of his hips. His back is against one of the arms of my big, red couch. We're in a similar position as we were last month, except he was on top then, fucking me with his hand.

"I told you I'd do anything for you," I whisper in his ear and take his earlobe between my teeth. "Edward, I want _you_, Daddy or not."

I'm thanking God that I showered last night and brushed my teeth this morning, because I can't stop rubbing up against him and putting my mouth on him. I think there must still be some toxins in my bloodstream, because I feel really unstable and disconnected, like the only thing tying me down is Edward.

_There's a thought…_

Edward smiles against my skin and runs his nose along my jaw. His hands are in my hair and on my back, gentle, but insistent. I bite his bare shoulder and grind down on his hard cock.

Yeah, I think it and say it all the time now.

"Baby," Edward speaks quietly. "You're not feeling well. Maybe we should take it easy."

"Screw easy," I breathe in his ear. I feel his fingers slip below the waistband of my pink boxers, then down inside. "We need to consummate this love thing." My shorts are kind of bunched around his wrists as he cups my ass. I'm sure if we were practicing our typical Door Standing Open position, my neighbors would most definitely have a stellar view of the crack of my ass.

Edward tips his head back and laughs openly, but not loudly. I can't help but grin.

"You know," Edward says as he runs a single finger around the curve of my ass cheek at the top of my thigh, _almost_ stroking my lips, "we should take this show on the road. 'Witness the Amazing Edward and Bella fuck their way through menstrual flow, demanding toddlers, and deadly sea urchin!'"

He laughs like a maniacal freak, and his finger tickles, but not in a way that makes me feel silly. He does this a lot. I think he likes that spot.

"Oh my God!" I laugh and squirm in his lap. "We're awesome!" I gasp, because Edward slides a finger between my lips, from behind. "We could totally tape this shit. Make a million dollars."

Edward kisses my mouth, no tongue. He doesn't use tongue to kiss very often, which is fine with me because his lips and teeth do excellent things to my mouth. Besides, he should conserve his tongue energy for other activities.

Edward's other hand, the one not occupied with deftly fingering my nether-regions, is squeezing and groping my stiff and sore neck. As we nuzzle, semi-horizontal and fully enveloped within one another, I turn and cozy my back into the couch. My leg is draped across his body, and his wet fingers slip to my hip inside my shorts to rest.

I'm light-headed from the Uni, but I just don't give a shit. I'm so wet, no matter how pukey I was just twelve hours ago. Suddenly, I feel like crying, because I have never in my life wanted anybody as much as I want him. Not physically, not emotionally. No one has ever made me feel this safe and loved.

"I want you. Inside." My voice is not allowed above a whisper today, and that's okay because it seems appropriate in this situation. I'm so sensitive right now and, fuck…

Edward drags his hand across my hip and down the front of my body. He swirls three fingers through my slit, getting them nice and slick, before slipping his middle and ring fingers slowly inside my pussy. His thumb rests over my clit, and I feel his index finger slide between my ass cheeks, brushing that illicit spot.

"Holy fucking shit," I breathe. I'm pretty sure I'm whining, because his fingers feel so good right where they are.

I hear him laugh, soft and quiet. "You like that, don't you, baby?" I nod my head in the crux of his neck and pull his hair. I can feel him smile as he kisses my temple. I am on Cloud Nine.

All I want to do is come. Now. Hard. I know it's selfish. I know I should touch him, too. But his fingers are all-the-fuck over _all_ of my parts, and holy fucking _shit_.

I furl a few fingers in his hair, and my other hand scrapes down his torso to yank at the waist of his pants.

"You have no idea, Bella." Edward's voice is rough, raw. I feel his hard cock rub against my wrist as I wrench at the waist of his pants. "You have no idea, the things I think about… What I want… Fuck…"

"I want it, too." I bite his neck and jaw, thrusting my hand down the front of his pants and grasp him, hard. "I want it all." I push my back into the back of the couch and open my thighs, like a bow. Edward is on his back still, but he's doing an outstanding job of entertaining the entire space where my legs form a V.

"I want you to do things to me," I moan and spread the pre-cum over as much of his length as possible. "Everything." I feel his finger, just a little more persistent between my cheeks, and it fucking thrills me.

Rub, rub, rubbing behind. Fingers twisting inside. Thumb circling…

I can't open enough. I fear I may never be able to open myself enough to take him all in. He's so much, so intense, everything I've ever wanted, and I want it all now. Now.

"Fuck." I squirm, and Edward's free hand clenches a chunk of my hair and brings my face to meet his. He kisses me hard, bites my lip.

"Everything," he hisses, and all of a sudden, his hand is fucking me hard, fingers everywhere, slipping and sliding. He arches his back, and I feel his cock swell in my hand. "Fuck, Bella… I want-"

"Ung," I groan and jerk his cock a few times, and he comes over my fist.

We both come. Everything clenches – my neck, my shoulders, my hips, my pussy. I worry that I'm making a mess, but I don't make a mess. Edward does.

My hand in his jeans is warm and sticky. I can barely breathe, and through this miasma of want and gratification, I hear him laughing.

"With you, baby?" He kisses my collarbone and breathes heavy. "I will never want for anything." He kisses my lips, slowly pulling them into his mouth, licking, sucking.

EPOV

She wants everything from me, and I want to give it to her. I want to take what she has to give. I want to care for her and celebrate her and lay her down and take her for my own. Everything.

I reach for the box of Kleenex on the sidetable, so Bella and I can clean up.

"How's the tea settling?" I'm kissing her lips. She doesn't like tongue, which is perfect, because I just really enjoy nibbling her pretty, plump lips more than anything.

"Okay." Her breathing slows, returning to normal. She reaches grabs a handful of Kleenex to wipe her hands and to help me with the mess in my pants. "I'm not barfing, so that's good."

I laugh, "Yes, not barfing is good. I was thinking about making you some macaroni and cheese. Are you up for it?"

"Kraft Cheese and Macaroni!" Bella is suddenly very excited. She sits up, tossing the dirty Kleenex in the wastebasket, and then claps her hands together, briefly reminding me of Delia. Of course, I know better than to imply that her reaction just now reminds me of my toddler.

"Well, no, actually," I reply. "I was thinking more along the lines of using my nanny's recipe. It's delicious, but I don't want it to be too rich for you."

"Jeez," Bella yawns and stretches, centering herself astride my hips and settling her hands on my chest. "I should get sick more often."

She looks thoughtful and bashful, as she plays lightly with the hair on my chest. I know she's just being humble, but her comment kind of pisses me off.

"Bella, you don't have to be sick to let me to take care of you." I feel my facial muscles tense. "I will always take care of you."

"Well, I'm not a baby." She shrugs and scrunches up her face.

"I didn't say you were." I grasp her hips and come to a full sitting position. I wonder when we're going to stop arguing about this. But, Bella's been treated like a child for so long that she's grown used to arguing that she can always do everything herself, that she doesn't need any help.

"See, this is where we disconnect, Bella. The fact that I care for you is not a reflection of your inability to care for yourself." I dip my hand under her tank top and skim a finger over her breast, circling her nipple. "Just because I get you off, doesn't mean I don't think you can do it yourself. It means I want to show you I love you."

_The Amazing Edward and Bella can fuck their way through anything…_

"Okay." She blushes lightly and tucks a hair behind her ear, relishing my fingers on her nipple. "But, didn't we drop the L-Bomb last night? I mean, isn't that enough for a while?"

"No," I shake my head and bend down to kiss her exposed belly. "That's just the beginning. So get used to me expressing my love and adoration for you, verbally and physically, on a regular basis and with great intensity."

Bella chews on her top lip until I reach up to her face with mine and kiss her lip free from worry. When we break for breath, Bella wonders aloud what it is that I love so much about her.

"You're caring and compassionate." I kiss her chin. "Strong and successful. Always excelling in your career, pleasing people, making them feel good about themselves. Do you know how valuable that is?" I look into her eyes and she's entranced by words. "A lot of people can put tablecloths on tables and hire a band, Bella." My eyes search hers, hoping that someday she'll believe just how fucking amazing she is. "But it takes a genius to make every person you meet fall in love with you."

She is beauty and love and grace all wrapped up into a soft, womanly package, and I am so fucking grateful to have her in my life.

"You're… you are-"

"The wind beneath your wings?" Bella tilts her head and blinks. I know she's joking to lighten the mood, but I can tell she believes that I love her. She gets it.

"Yes." I chuckle, take one of her hands in mine, and kiss her fingertips. "You're my hero."

"Excellent!" She beams. "So… Mac and cheese. Is this a secret recipe?" My hand slips out from under Bella's shirt as she climbs off of my lap and stands next to the couch.

"Yes," I reply. "It's top secret. So, I'm going to the store for ingredients while you pack a bag to stay at my house-"

Bella starts to interrupt as I stand next to her.

"No arguments." I hold up my hand. She's about to tell me she isn't a little girl, and I'm not going over that again. "Just put together an overnight bag, and I'll be back to pick you up. I'm going to take you to my house for a mac and cheese feast and happy, fun time with my daughter." I smile down at her, and she grins mischievously.

"I think she's pretty cute, ya know?"

"I know," I smirk.

"And I think she's gonna like me." Bella juts out her chin as if she needs to challenge me on the subject.

"I know she'll like you." I bend over to pick up my t-shirt from the floor, thanking God that Bella cleaned me up with the Kleenex earlier. "Do you need help getting your bed picked up or anything?" I pull my shirt over my head and then the comforter from the bed to fold it.

"No." Bella snatches the half-folded blanket from my arms and shoves me out of the way. "Just put your shoes on and get to the store. I'm getting hungry, mister!"

"Wow," I mumble. "You're kinda bossy… Dig it." I lightly punch her shoulder as I jam my feet into my boots. "Okay." I slip my jacket on. "I should probably only be gone for about thirty minutes. Is that enough time for you to get ready?"

Bella is pulling panties and socks from a drawer and tossing them into a bag laying open on the floor. She opens another drawer and looks perplexed.

"Are we just… staying in tonight?" Her gaze turns to mine, and she looks so fucking cute, confused, and tired. I love that I'm one of the few people she allows to see her vulnerable side.

"Yeah, baby." I cross the floor and join her, weaving my fingers lightly through the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. I kiss her forehead and tell her we'll just relax. "Just you and me and Delia."

I reiterate the plan and head out the door and down her stairs, pulling my phone from my pocket. I dial my parents' home number. Maggie, my mother's housekeeper, answers on the second ring. I ask her to look up Siobhan's baked macaroni and cheese recipe and email it to me. I know that Siobhan entered a lot of her recipes and little tips into a file on my mother's home computer, most likely for times like these. Siobhan has always been so good to me.

By the time I reach the City Market, Maggie has emailed the recipe, and I'm able to start collecting the ingredients into a shopping basket. Thi is a pretty poor excuse for a grocery store, but I can make it work. The macaroni and cheese isn't exactly demanding. I find the ingredients quickly and easily.

I'm going through the self checkout when I spot Ben Cheney next to me. "Ben," I call to him and extend my hand. I'm sure I'm annoying the people waiting in line, but I'm waiting for my card to be authorized, so I might as well say "hello."

"Dude," Ben responds. "How goes it?" We shake hands, and my receipt spits out. I snatch it and move out of the way for the next customer to scan his or her items.

"I'm good, man," I answer. "Just picking up a few groceries. My daughter's here for a few weeks, and I want to make dinner for her and my girlfriend, who you may know… Bella Swan?"

Recognition lights Ben's face. "Yeah, I know Bella." He nods and smiles big and wide, which comes as no surprise; Bella has this affect on people. "She and Angela are pretty close friends. As a matter of fact, Ang used to live in the apartment where Bella is now."

We decide that the four of us should get together sometime soon for dinner or drinks, and then we go our separate ways. I walk four blocks back to Bella's. She's ready to go-bag packed, yoga pants and Green Day baseball cap in place.

We drive to my house with my iPod providing background music. Bella loaded some songs onto it, and every once in a while, I notice that the B&E Playlist has grown. Today, I hear "How Good It Can Get" by The Wallflowers as her latest addition.

"But you gotta give in," Bella sings softly, her whiskey voice is sweet and sultry. "And you gotta let go… Then you can begin… To come up slow, like a desert rose."

I pull into my car park, and we gather our things to exit the car. "Can you get your bag alright, if I carry the groceries?" In addition to the ingredients for Siobhan's mac and cheese, I picked up some mint chip ice cream for dessert. Bella likes pretty much any kind of ice cream, but I thought the mint would be soothing. Still, I don't want her to see it right away. I want to surprise her.

"Yes, Edward." Bella rolls her eyes and smirks as she climbs out of the car. "I think I can handle an overnight bag. I had food poisoning yesterday, not back surgery."

"Baby," I retort and slam the trunk shut after retrieving the groceries. "I'm pretty sure I told you the pampering was not to be contingent upon anything other than my love and adoration. I'm going to offer to carry your bag regardless of your able body, which, by the way, I _greatly_ appreciate…" I make a show of checking out her ass as she walks through my front door laughing. "So you can suck it."

"Oh, I'll suck it," Bella snarks, making me practically choke on my tongue. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that." She tosses her bag to the floor at the bottom of the main staircase and turns to face me, hands on hips and a smirk on her lips.

"Remind me to wash your mouth out with soap later," I mutter teasingly as I head down the corridor to the kitchen to unload our groceries and meet Heidi and Delia as they enter from the patio. Bella follows me, chuckling lightly.

"Hello!" Heidi greets us in the kitchen, smiling and holding Delia by the hand. "We were just talking about you, weren't we Delia?"

"Daddy," Delia complains without a greeting. "Heidi not let me in the hot tub." She's frowning.

I arch a brow at Heidi, wondering how this all came about, as I hide the ice cream in the freezer while Bella isn't looking. Bella is smiling at Delia, and it appears that she's slightly amused by Delia's behavior.

"Well, Princess," I respond to Delia, turning my back to the counter, facing her and leaning into the granite. I cross my arms over my chest. "Hot tubs aren't for little girls. Heidi's right to take care of you that way."

Delia makes a face of disappointment and mumbles, "Big girl tomorrow…"

"Delia." I push myself away from the counter, cross the small space between my daughter and I, and lift her in my arms. I've seen her struggle with Tanya and Heidi before when she's in a mood like this and they try to pick her up and comfort or calm her. But, she never resists me. "Keeping you out of the hot tub is for your safety. Daddy doesn't want you to get hurt, and the hot tub can be dangerous for anyone, not just little girls."

I notice Bella watching me curiously. It occurs to me that Bella and I have never really discussed her father. I wonder what she thinks of my relationship with Delia.

"And," I continue to hold Delia as I put the rest of the groceries away one-handed. "I want you to promise me that from now on you won't argue with Heidi or Bella or me when we say 'no hot tub.' Okay?"

Delia nods sadly before hiding her embarrassment by burying her face in my neck.

"It's okay." I set her on the counter, smiling and tipping her face to look at me. I want her to know that she hasn't done anything wrong. "It's good to ask questions. Don't let anybody ever tell you that you can't ask questions, baby." I hold up a hand for a high-five, something that Delia and I have done as a sign of acknowledgement or affirmation for as long as I can remember. She smacks my hand and offers a shy giggle.

"Heidi, thanks for sticking around until Bella and I got here." I smile at Heidi, and she nods while Delia sits on the counter and plays with my fingers. "Of course, you're welcome to join us for Big Girl's party tomorrow, but I hope you have some things planned for your time off."

When I called Heidi this morning, I reminded her of her weekend off and apologized for being late, explaining that Bella was sick. I told her that Bella and I would be home soon and that my parents are flying in tomorrow morning. I want to take Bella and Delia with me to the airport to pick them up.

Heidi says that she has a spa day planned, and after Bella approves of the spa she's planning to visit, they smile at each other as if they've just shared some kind of intense bonding experience. Heidi says goodbye, kisses Delia's forehead, and leaves the kitchen.

"Bella," I say, weighing my words carefully because I know that Bella wants to spend time with Delia, but I don't yet know her expectations. "Do you want to sit with Delia and color for a while? I need to get our mac and cheese put together."

"Sure," Bella immediately stands at attention and smiles directly at Delia, not anxious, but gentle. "I think I might need a little help staying inside the lines."

_I do not doubt that for one minute, baby._

Thirty minutes later, I'm sliding the baking dish into the oven. The casserole needs to bake for an hour. Even though it's only eleven-thirty, it'd be nice to have it for lunch.

After cleaning up the kitchen, I grab a beer from the refrigerator and decide to check on my girls.

"Daddy!" Delia shouts excitedly as I join her and Bella where they sit on the great room floor. There are drawings strewn everywhere, and they each look very pleased with themselves.

"Yes, pumpkin?" I'm highly amused by the scene before me.

"Bella can draw _horses_." Delia hops up and toddles toward me, saying this in an excited and almost conspiratorial manner, as if Bella's ability to draw a horse is top-secret information.

"Can she?" I shift my eyes to Bella, who is chuckling silently, biting her bottom lip. She has a brown crayon in her hand and the large piece of construction paper in front of her displays a scene of horses in a pasture – two grown and one foal. The foal must be a girl, because it has ridiculously long eyelashes, placed there by Delia, I assume, who does this to every female she draws.

"I had no idea you could draw, Bella." Bella and my eyes meet as Delia wraps her little body around my legs and yawns.

"Oh, God…" Bella rolls her eyes and tosses the crayon to the coffee table. She isn't going to make any money off the crayon drawing lying before us, but it's quite an accurate rendering. It's also a perfect way for her and Delia to relate. "Stop," Bella says as she stands, slowly brushing her yoga pants free of any crayon shavings. "Delia, I'm parched, little one. Do you want to split a lemonade with me?"

"Yeah!" Delia lets go of my legs and shoots directly toward Bella's outstretched hand. I watch as they disappear into the kitchen and Bella tosses me a glance over her shoulder, blowing me a kiss.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

Delia and I are in the kitchen mixing lemonade from concentrate in a big, green, bubbled-glass pitcher.

I spotted the Minute Maid can in the freezer when Edward was hiding ice cream from me earlier. So, after Delia and I drew crazy crayon images of horse families with industrial-length eyelashes, I offered to split some lemonade with her.

I pull the step stool over to the counter so that Delia can stir. She doesn't make a mess, which is cool because I totally thought that toddlers were messy, like, twenty-four/seven.

"Okay," I say to Delia as she swirls the pulpy yellowish mixture with a big wooden spoon. "Now, stir it the other way to make sure you get it all mixed up."

I have no idea if it's technically necessary to stir the fuck out of lemonade, but my mother always did this with me when I was little. I guess Renee wasn't a _bad_ mom, but as an adult, I wish she had done a few things differently.

I wish my mom had been more of a mother than a friend. I wish she hadn't left my father so easily. I wish that she had comforted me first, when my high school boyfriend cheated on me, rather than rush me off to the doctor to be tested for the Clap.

_I wish, I wish, I wish… WAAAAHHH!_ _Grow up, Isabella. Put your big girl panties on, and look at this opportunity in front of you._

Delia focuses on the task at hand with determination. It's an awesome realization that this child is in fact a little person with hopes and dreams and aspirations. She'll be an adult one day, with a job and responsibilities. I'd like to think that maybe I could help make her journey a little easier, happier, and a little less taxing.

Maybe I can start with lemonade reassurance. "Man, you are one awesome lemonade mixer, sister!" I exclaim, and Delia grins brightly. "Look at that! I think that is the best looking lemonade I've ever seen."

I ask Delia if she wants ice in her lemonade and she says "yes." For a toddler, she's very decisive. I don't wonder where she gets it, because she seems to have inherited quite a few of Edward's traits.

Once our cups are filled with lemonade and I have dubbed Delia the Best Lemonader in the West, we decide to sit on the patio and play Polly Pockets while Edward returns a few phone calls.

As we dress the weird little plastic dolls, Delia eyes the hot tub nervously and informs me that it's "dangawas." I stifle a laugh at that and roll my eyes a little bit. Edward must've scared the shit out of her with his Dangers of Hot Tubbing platform.

Then I think about all the times I might not have broken a bone or suffered a concussion if my mom hadn't been so lackadaisical, or if my dad had been anywhere around.

"Yeah," I say, standing by my man, and smoothing my pocket-sized friend's skirt. "Hot tubs are an acquired taste, D. You gotta ease yourself into these things, ya know? Some day, you'll get in there and be like, 'what was I so jazzed about, anyway?'" I shrug animatedly, roll my eyes, and scrunch my nose. "Know what I mean?"

Delia giggles and nods her head, sipping her lemonade through a straw. This talking to a toddler thing isn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be.

* * *

After Edward, Delia, and I consume a late lunch of the best fucking mac and cheese known to man (the bread crumbs are pure fucking win), Edward heads upstairs to put Delia down for a nap. He was unusually quiet during lunch, and he ignored his phone the last two times it rang.

While he's upstairs, I decide to clean up the kitchen. I wrap up the leftover cheesy goodness and slide it into the fridge, rinse our dishes, and load the dishwasher. His phone vibrates on the kitchen island a few times, but I ignore it. He can check his messages later. I throw our napkins into the laundry and wipe down the counters, and Edward's landline rings. I glance at the caller ID and it says "Cullen, Edward M." with an out-of-area number.

It worries me that his cell phone was ringing before and now his landline. Maybe his parents can't come now? Maybe there's a family emergency? I decide to answer his phone.

"Hello?"

There's a slight pause on the other end. Just as I'm about to repeat my greeting, I hear a decidedly feminine voice clear itself and speak.

"Hello," she responds. She is polite, clear, and concise. "This is Tanya, Delia's mother. Is Edward available?"

What do you say to the mother of the little girl you were daydreaming about mothering, who calls and asks to speak to her soon-to-be ex-husband whom you're fucking?

"He, uh…" I stammer a little. I'm sure I don't sound like a tool at all. "He's just putting Delia down for a nap. But if you'll hold for a minute, I'll run up and check on him."

She doesn't hesitate to answer, "I'll wait."

I put the line on hold, swallow the lump in my throat, and take three deep breaths before I walk up the back staircase from the kitchen to Edward's bedroom. He's just coming out of the door when I reach the top.

"What's wrong?" Edward's eyes go wide and he reaches for me, concern covering his face. "Are you sick again?"

"Tanya." I point at the phone sitting on the Cherry wood sideboard in the upstairs hallway.

Edward furrows his brow and follows my gaze to the phone. He takes a deep breath and lets it out before snatching the phone up, answering the line.

"Hi." His shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched. "What did you find out?"

I leave him alone in the hallway and head down the stairs. When I see my overnight bag is still at the bottom of the front staircase, I decide to put on my bikini and take a dip in the pool. I change in the laundry room off the kitchen, slip into my flip-flops, grab a towel from the linen closet, and head to the patio.

Edward's patio is like paradise - hot tub, fire pit, infinity pool - overlooking the Roaring Fork River that runs through the small city of Forks. In the distance, I can see Mt. Sopris and the expanse of his amazing view.

I toss my borrowed towel to one of the lounge chairs, kick off my flip-flops, and dive in. I swim eight laps and then float languidly, soaking in the sun.

I shouldn't be upset. I knew sooner or later I'd have some sort of meeting with Tanya. It's not like she was a bitch to me on the phone, or that I have anything to be ashamed of, but this whole situation is so new to me. I'm intimidated.

I know I'm a decent catch for any guy. I'm relatively attractive, smart, funny, successful…

_Ugh. Stop. He loves you. He said it. Accept it, embrace it, own it._

"Hey." Edward walks out onto the patio. He's wearing chocolate brown board shorts with some kind of ridiculous design running down one leg, and nothing else. He tosses the baby monitor on the lounge chair with my towel and dives into the pool, barely making a splash.

The pool is warm and clear, and the sun is shining brightly overhead. August and September in Forks are fucking incredible - 70 degrees and sunny every single day.

"Is everything alright?" I ask Edward as he surfaces, drags his hands through his wet hair, and wades toward me, where I'm floating in the shallow end.

He sighs and rolls his neck. I notice the tension from the hallway hasn't quite left his body. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight.

"Edward?" I stop floating and stand in the pool, chest-deep. "What is it?"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He's standing, skimming his hands over the top of the water with his long fingers.

"She checked herself into rehab." His voice is tight, quiet.

I can't tell him I already know this, so I just grab his hand in mine and listen.

"That's why she sent Delia here to stay with me." He swallows hard and shakes his head again, still not looking at me. "Bella…" He sighs and pulls from my grasp, running his wet hands over his face and back through his hair. "She wants to relinquish custody of Delia."

His eyes finally meet mine, nervous. He's afraid I won't approve of this new development. He still thinks I don't want to be with Daddy, which is ridiculous. Besides, regardless of my desire for Edward, I feel responsible for that little girl. I can't just abandon her.

We made lemonade together and played Polly Pockets, for fuck's sake! If her mother isn't going to fight for her, I will. I'll be there with Edward and his parents - whom I haven't met yet, but they'll fucking love me - and I will vow to be part of her support system in any way I can.

I remember how it felt to be little and think that my parents didn't care. I remember Renee telling Charlie that it was over, that she wasn't happy, and that she needed more. And I remember Charlie telling me he loved me, but that I'd be happier with my mommy in Arizona.

While I fully realize that Charlie didn't abandon me and that he does love me, I didn't believe those things as a child. I do not want this little girl to ever think that she isn't loved.

"I know this has to be hard for her," Edward's voice breaks my reverie. "She loves Delia." He shakes his head and sighs. "She's putting the papers together right now with her attorney. She said it's only temporary, until she's healthy again. She'd like to renegotiate the terms then."

She wants what's best for her daughter. Good. But this isn't going to make things easy for Edward.

"Well," I squeeze his hand lightly and briefly, comforting, smiling. "That's good then, right? It's good for Delia to be with someone who can take the best care of her."

Edward's eyes search mine, determining whether or not I'm on board with this.

"Besides," I nudge his arm. "You've got me and Heidi and Uncle Emmett to help, right?"

His face softens and he releases my hand to take me in his arms. "Thank you," he says, his voice quiet. "This is a lot for you to take on so early, and I'm grateful, Bella. Really."

"I love you," I reply, shrugging, feeling one more bond tied between us. It feels good, solid. "You don't ever have to thank me for supporting you."

Edward chuckles and trails his fingers down my back, keeping one arm wrapped around my shoulders. He grazes the top of my bikini bottoms and then traces around the side to play with the string tied there.

"I thought you were over the 'I love you' moment," Edward teases and kisses my temple.

"What?" I curl my fingers in the waist of his shorts. "I never said I was over it. I just said-"

"You said," Edward interrupts me and grazes his teeth over my jaw as he smiles through his snark. "And I quote, 'Didn't we drop the L-Bomb last night?'" His voice is quiet and throaty as he peppers kisses down my neck, making me shiver. "And then something like, 'Isn't that enough for a while?' And now you're all gushy and lovey-dovey." He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth and releases it. "I like it, though. You can say it again, if you want."

"I love you," I reply, biting him back.

Edward lifts me, and my legs wrap around his waist. He treads water to the infinity edge and presses me against the side, kissing me and pulling my lips into his mouth, one at a time.

"Delia won't sleep for much longer," he whispers in my ear before he bites down on the shell of it. My ankles unhook, and my legs fall to his sides, floating open in the water. He slips his fingers inside my suit bottoms at the leg.

Jake and I had sex in a swimming pool once. I was totally paranoid that we were going to get caught because it was his uncle's pool, and even though it was dark outside, I could hear the neighbor's dog barking, alerting me that _someone could be watching_. Because of that paranoia, I wasn't at all lubricated. We did it anyway, I didn't come, Jake thought it was awesome, and I ended up with a UTI.

Of course, Edward is nothing like Jake, so I should really stop comparing them.

Before we can get anywhere… juicy, the monitor crackles and Delia calls out to her Daddy. I can hear her voice flowing through the doors of Edward's balcony off his bedroom, because he put her down in his bed for her nap. Edward kisses my top lip one last time and grins before pushing away.

"Be right back," he says, and he breaststrokes to the ladder to climb out.

"Daddy?" Delia appears on the balcony, rubbing her eyes and pouting.

"I'm here, princess." Edward dries off quickly with the towel that I brought outside before turning to face me. He rubs his hair and then drapes the towel over his shoulders. "I'm going to grab her. I'll get you another towel, too."

He jogs into the house with an enormous fucking grin on his face. He's happy that Delia is coming to live with him and that I'm cool with it. It's adorable.

I smile to myself and relax again, floating on my back and listening to the water flow over the edge of the pool.

EPOV

I jog into the house and up the back stairs. When I reach my room, Delia is sitting on my bedroom floor playing with Mr. Gordo's ears. She looks like she might cry.

"How was your nap?" I pull the towel from around my neck and toss it to the floor before kneeling beside Delia.

"Bad dream," Delia says. She still uses Ws in place of her Rs. Soon she'll stop doing that, signaling her baby days are over.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" I reach a hand out to smooth her hair. "Sometimes if you talk about your bad dreams, it makes you feel better."

Delia nods and sniffles. "Mommy was crying," she says in a small, sad voice.

With Heidi's help, it wasn't tough for me to protect Delia from Tanya's outbursts while I was still in Chicago. The last time I was there, Tanya and I fought the first day, so she pretty much steered clear of me the rest of the visit. But Heidi admitted that Tanya's less than happy episodes were spilling over onto Delia.

Heidi said she left them alone while she made some personal calls and checked her email one afternoon. When she rejoined them on the patio, Tanya was crying and rocking Delia in her arms. Heidi says she hasn't left them alone since.

"Oh, baby…" I pull Delia into my lap, her little back to my chest, and I hold her close. "Mommy has been kind of sad lately. That happens sometimes. But, she'll be better soon." I kiss her temple and nuzzle her hair. "And, guess what?"

Delia shrugs. I don't think my reassurances are making her feel any better.

"Mommy called this afternoon." Delia turns halfway to look at me, blinking her watery eyes. "She wanted me to ask you if you'd like to stay here with me for a while, keep an eye on Uncle Emmett?"

Delia's eyes light up. She smiles and nods before shoving her face into the crook of my neck like she always does.

"Uncle Emmett…" Delia mumbles, turning fully into me, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck, and squishing Mr. Gordo between her chest and mine.

"Yeah," I chuckle and stand with Delia draped around me like a little monkey. My little monkey. "Uncle Emmett's a goofball. He needs all the help he can get, doesn't he?"

Delia doesn't want out of my arms or away from my side for the rest of the day. She, Bella, and I play Chutes and Ladders before dinner. As I fry chicken strips, Delia and Bella watch All Dogs Go to Heaven. Delia insists on watching the movie on the tiny kitchen TV, sitting in Bella's lap for part of the movie, but never taking her eyes off of me.

"Charlie's my favorite," Delia says. Bella has one leg folded under her body and she's swinging her free leg. Her arm is wrapped around Delia protectively. They look so natural.

_How did either of us ever consider the possibility that she couldn't do this?_

"Ooh!" Bella looks excitedly down into Delia face. "My _dad's_ name is Charlie. How cool is that? I mean, he's not a totally awesomesauce cartoon dog, but still… Charlie!"

Delia giggles and leans back into Bella's body lovingly. This moment - and many others to come - reassures me that Bella is exactly what my little family needed.

After dinner, we all lie on the sofa. Bella is at one end, I'm at the other, and Delia is curled into my side with her head on my chest. Once I know that Delia is sleeping, I tell Bella I'm going to put her to bed.

"'Kay," Bella smiles serenely and snuggles further into the cushions. She picks up the remote control and looks perplexed before rolling her eyes and tossing the controller to the table. "Pfft... Technology."

I chuckle at her giving up so easily in the face of a challenge she deems unworthy. "I'll be right back, baby," I tell Bella as Delia stirs and groans in my arms. I make my way to the front stairs and up.

I tuck Delia into her bed with Mr. Gordo. I leave her nightlight on, even though the moonlight shines bright through the windows of her room. Since she was so clingy tonight after her bad dream, I switch on the monitor and kiss her goodnight before I head downstairs with the receiver.

By the time I get back to the sofa, Bella is sound asleep. I watch her for just a moment, curled into an easy bundle, relaxed and smiling.

"Baby?" I crouch next to Bella's dozing form. She stirs and blinks rapidly. She wasn't asleep long-I was only gone for a few minutes-but she's disoriented.

"Let's go to bed," I say, as I help her disentangle herself from the throw. "Big day tomorrow. You get to meet the parents."

Bella laughs and shakes her head as she stands and stretches. "I cannot believe how much that _doesn't_ freak me out."

* * *

"Gramma!" Delia races to the door as my mother walks through, rolling carry-on trailing behind her.

"Hello, princess!" Esme exclaims, leaving her bag to rest beside the doorway, and letting her large leather shoulder bag slip to the floor. She crouches down and throws her arms wide. "Oh…" Esme envelops Delia in a patented Grandma Esme hug and groans. "Grandma missed you." Kisses rain down on my little girl, and I look up to see my pops walk through the door, smiling wide and proud.

My parents are used to seeing Delia every day they are in the States. This might be the first time Delia's ever been out of Chicago without them. They missed her.

"Do I get some of those angel kisses?" Carlisle asks as Esme releases Delia, and Delia hops up into his arms.

"Edward," Esme says, smiling as she stands and approaches Bella and I where we stand just four feet from Delia's ambush. As captivated as my parents are by their reunion with Delia, they have both noticed Bella, and they both looked pleased.

My mother embraces me, and I swear, every time she does this, I'm reduced to that eight-year-old boy who fell off his bike and skinned his knee.

After just a moment of motherly love, Esme pulls away from me, still holding my hand. "This must be Bella."

Bella smiles and stands up straight, like a ballerina, graceful and open. "Hi." She extends a hand.

"Oh, dear," Esme laughs. "We're huggers." Esme releases my hand and takes Bella into her arms.

Bella looks stunned for a brief second before hugging my mother back in earnest, relief written all over her face.

"I'm sorry we're late, Son." Carlisle has left his rolling bag off to the side with Esme's, but his satchel is slung across his back. He approaches me with Delia on his hip, and hugs me with one arm. "Weather or something. You know O'Hare."

We all laugh politely at the small talk, and this moment could not be more Norman Rockwell if we were sitting in a soda shop.

But we deserve this. We deserve happiness, harmony. Functionality, for the love of Christ.

"Pops, this is Bella." I trail my fingers down Bella's arm to her hand.

Carlisle smiles knowingly and then reaches out to grasp Bella's free hand in his to squeeze. "Bella. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for watching over Edward for us."

"Bella can draw horses," Delia tells her grandpa, and anyone else who will listen.

"Well," Carlisle responds with a smile. "I'd like to see that."

Esme and Carlisle haven't checked any luggage, so we make our way to Emmett's Range Rover. He loaned it to me so that we could load all of us plus luggage into the vehicle. No way we were all fitting in the Audi. And Bella says her Jeep is "filthy." Like my parents care.

"So," Esme starts as she buckles into the front passenger seat of the truck. "We're making our own pizza, eh? Sounds like a load of fun. What toppings are _you_ going to use, Grandpa?"

"Why are you asking me?" Carlisle complains from the back seat. "I just got here. We should be asking the Birthday Princess," he answers and then gasps. "You know what? I have something for you!" Carlisle pulls a small bag with tissue paper popping out of the top from his satchel and hands it to Delia in her car seat.

"It is the only way for a princess to start her birthday," Carlisle intones in a serious voice, but he's smiling.

Delia whips the brightly colored tissue out of the bag as I ease out of the parking spot. I hear her squeal and Bella's laugh from behind me as I drive.

I watch in the rearview mirror as Bella and Carlisle help Delia affix her Birthday Princess tiara to her head. There are tiny plastic diamonds embedded in the crown and a glittery pink "4" in the center. Delia loves it.

Delia entertains us all with her wishes for gifts: a real horse, which isn't happening, a puppy, which is more plausible than a horse, and a new pair of ruby slippers, which is done – Emmett and Rose went to Target yesterday and bought them.

We find a parking spot directly in front of Brunelleschi's, where we have reserved a portion of the small street-side patio for Delia's birthday. Emmett and Rose are already seated, and I see Heidi walking down the stairs from the inside seating of the restaurant.

"Hello, fair princess!" Emmett calls from our section. A table of girls next to him giggle. Rose, smiling and waving at us, arches a brow in the direction of the girls, and that's the last time they take notice of our party.

Emmett, Heidi, Rose, and the restaurant owner, Emily, have created Forks's largest explosion of pink on this patio. Pink packages, pink paper table covers, pink cellophane adorning the chairs and table umbrella. Delia is wide-eyed and smiling. Bella helped her out of her car seat and is now holding her hand as we walk into the patio area.

"How is my favorite aunt?" Emmett hugs Esme and introduces her to Rosalie Hale.

My mother, ever the graceful lady, doesn't acknowledge that she remembers Rose's name from my college days. She simply kisses Rose's cheek in a warm greeting.

"I am just so pleased to see you lovely girls." Esme reaches for Heidi to hug and kiss her cheek in greeting. "And I am so grateful to be here and share this beautiful day with such a lovely group of young people."

Rose takes a seat between Emmett and Pops, introducing herself. My mother sits next to Carlisle, Delia sits between Bella and my mother, and I sit between Bella and Heidi, who takes a seat beside Emmett.

We order drinks, and soon several of the servers bring out the pizza crusts and toppings for us to start building our pizza. Delia chatters and giggles with my mother and Bella, as they ask her what she wants on her pizza.

I watch my mother and Bella interact with Delia easily. They're having fun. I cannot remember the last time we all got together as a family and had fun.

"This was a great idea, Edward," Carlisle says, as the servers take our pizzas to cook in the big brick ovens upstairs.

"It was Bella who arranged it," I reply, resting my arm across the back of Bella's chair. "She knows Emily pretty well. Emily's the owner." I look to Bella and she's wiping Delia's hands with a wet towel one of the boys brought to our table.

"Yeah," Bella answers, off-handed. "Emily's done some catering with Rose and I, and when I mentioned that Delia was going to be _four_…" Bella emphasizes Delia's age and taps the sparkly number on her head. "Emily agreed it was cause for celebration."

"Indeed," Carlisle responds to Bella, but smiles at me approvingly.

Of course I knew my parents would love Bella, because I love Bella. She's everything I need and want, and they can see that in her.

"Bella, this is an adorable blouse," Esme compliments Bella's baby pink, structured button-down. I can see pink satin peeking out of the neckline and I'm really looking forward to seeing the rest of whatever that is. "Do you get it here somewhere?"

"Oh, God, no." Bella laughs and sips her iced tea. "I buy everything online. I can't stand to pay full Forks prices for retail. It's outrageous."

My mother and Bella begin to discuss which websites they frequent most often and my mother vows to take Bella shopping "the next time she's in Chicago."

_Slick, Mother. Real slick._

Our pizzas are delicious and Delia has a blast at the restaurant, loving the attention from the restaurant employees and patrons alike. After lunch, we head back to the house and Delia takes a nap. My mother, Bella, Heidi, and Rose get Delia's presents and cake ready, while Emmett, Pops, and I sit by the pool, drinking beer, like a bunch of dudes.

Around three o'clock, Bella waltzes onto the patio with Delia on her hip.

"Gentlemen," Bella starts with a smile. "The birthday princess would like to open her presents."

"Well then," Emmett replies. "We better get our booties inside!"

We follow Bella and Delia back to the dining room, where Delia's presents are scattered and her cake is displayed beautifully.

"Thank you," I murmur in Bella's ear and gently squeeze her hand.

"The pleasure's all mine," Bella whispers and kisses my mouth, squeezing my hand in return.

We sing Happy Birthday to Delia. She makes her wish and blows out her candles. Then, one by one, she opens her packages, delighted and thankful for each and every one.

Presents, cake, and ice cream are a blur and I can see Delia starting to get droopy-eyed. It's been a very big day, even for such a big girl. She plays with every new toy she's unwrapped and we watch her new High School Musical DVD. By eight o'clock, Delia is passed out in her grandpa's lap.

"Let me take her, Pops." I offer, because he looks tired, too.

"No, no," Carlisle waves me off. "Your mother and I will tuck her in. We haven't been able to do that for a while."

"Alright," I concede and watch my parents disappear up the stairs with a sweet, sleeping Delia.

I join Bella and Rose in the kitchen. Heidi has long since retired to her own room and Emmett is dousing the fire on the patio.

"Ugh," Rose groans. "I ate way too much. That cake was flippin' amazing, Cullen. Where did you get it?"

"d'Ellisious?" I look at Bella and she nods.

"Oh." Rose nods and sips her wine. "Elissa's place, right?"

"Yeah," Bella answers. "Really fucking good, too." She picks up the wine bottle and waves it at Rose. "More?"

"No, thanks." Rose pushes away from the counter where she and Bella are leaning. "Mr. McCarty and I are staying at my place tonight and I'm driving."

Emmett enters from the patio, smacking his belly and groaning. "Delicious!"

Rose chuckles and shakes her head. "Ready to go, Em?"

"I am, dear one. I am," Emmett agrees and they say their goodbyes, leaving Bella and I alone in the kitchen.

"I don't know about you, but I'd like another glass of wine," I say to Bella as I retrieve my glass from the kitchen island and fill it half full.

"Yes, please." Bella nudges her glass in my direction and I pour the rest of the Cabernet into her glass. She swirls the beautiful red and the light glints off the glass, showering her cheeks and collarbones with sparkles of reflection.

"I'd like to check on Delia." I take a sip from my glass, keeping my eyes on Bella's face. "Do you want to meet me in my room?"

"Yes, I do." Bella doesn't miss a beat. She's as eager as I am to get into bed. That makes me very happy.

She picks up her glass and heads up the back stairs. I set the house alarm, check the windows, and shut off the lights, then head up the stairs after Bella.

I check on Delia, and she's sleeping soundly. I walk down the hall, past the linen closet, and to my bedroom. When I enter my room, I stop dead in my tracks.

Bella is on her knees, ass resting on her heels, hands clasped in her lap, in the middle of the room. She's wearing a pale pink, satin bustier, which I spied earlier, and a pair of sleek, pink, satin panties.

I feel my face split with a satisfied grin. Bella and I have pretty much been acting on impulse with sex, flying by the seat of our pants. So far, I haven't felt the need to do anything differently, but if she wants to play…

_Fuck yes._

"What're you doin', baby?" I set my wine glass on my nightstand next to hers, kick my shoes off, and wander casually toward her kneeling form.

"Waiting for you," she replies, her voice lilting and coy.

_Jesus._

"You look very pretty, Bella," I assert, as I stop in front of her and clasp my own hands lightly behind my back.

She looks up at me and smirks. "Well, I know how much you like me on my knees. So…" She shrugs playfully, pursing her lips.

I'm going to have to really keep myself in check here, or I won't last long. Listening to Bella talk about how much I like her on her knees, while she's on her knees... Her lips full, pink, wet… Her hair cascading over the delicate, lightly tanned skin of her shoulders and down her back… Her breasts…

"Bella, you are a vision." I take in her goddess-like appearance and inhale deeply, filling my lungs, bracing myself for what I know will be one of the most fantastic experiences of my life. And I get to share it with Bella.

"May I?" I extend one finger toward her throat and Bella arches her neck, exposing her skin to me, vulnerable.

"Please," she replies, and I'm there, touching her, feeling her skin, smooth as the satin encasing her beautiful body. She closes her eyes and moans. "Please…"

I don't think, or ask another question. I kick into impulse mode, because that's what works for us. My hand slips around the back of her head, under her hair, cradling. She rolls her neck and looks up at me, lovingly.

"May I?" she asks, repeating my request. Without waiting for an answer, her hands are at the button of my black pants. I think for a minute that her elegant, modestly manicured fingers look so perfect against the black cotton, as she slowly unzips the zipper.

My grip tightens slightly in her hair at the base of her skull and my other hand strokes her silky jaw, fingers exploring the soft skin under her chin.

I'm already hard. How could I be anything else with her like this? She takes my cock in one hand and brings it to her lips. Her tongue escapes her mouth and licks.

"Fuck." I shiver and fist her hair, my other hand resting on her shoulder, gently.

Bella looks up at me, tongue resting on her bottom lip. She opens her mouth wide and takes me all the way inside, closing her eyes and moaning quietly in approval.

Her mouth is warm and wet. Obviously, a blow job is a good thing and any welcoming mouth would be wonderful, but, Bella loves me. And she loves being with me like this.

_How did I get so lucky to have an amazing woman like Bella _asking_ if she can suck my cock? I do not know._

Bella's hands are gripping me firmly, balls and shaft, and my cock is rhythmically bumping the back of her throat. She's breathing heavy and making quiet sounds of contentment.

I'm going to come in about 2.8 seconds, so I warn her, even though I know she'll swallow it all. "Baby, I'm coming." I grip her hair and her shoulder, tighter than is probably comfortable for her. She lightly strokes my perineum, and I am fucking done.

She releases me and I bend to kiss her forehead, helping her to her feet. "Thank you," I whisper. "Again. For everything." I kiss her lips and she murmurs, "my pleasure."

_Fuck._

I kick my pants completely off and pull my Henley over my head. I'd like a sip of wine after that, and I assume Bella would like to change the taste in her mouth, so I retrieve our glasses from the nightstand. I hand her one of the glasses and we make a wordless toast to us, because that's all that matters right now.

I take the glass from her hand and return them to the nightstand. I switch on my iPod and go back to her, taking her hand in mine and wrapping my other arm around her waist to dance.

"I love this song," Bella says as she settles her head on my chest. I can feel the satin of her bustier gliding over my bare torso and the silk of her thighs brushing my knees.

"Mmm." We're listening to Cat Power's version of Sea of Love. It's one of the songs Bella put on the B&E Playlist on my iPod.

We dance until the song is over and Protection by Massive Attack begins. Massive Attack always reminds me of my first threesome, the only threesome I ever had with another guy involved, but I won't think about that right now. I want to focus on Bella.

I pull her to the bed with me. "Lay down with me." I recline onto the pillows and settle Bella over the top of me. Her hands are on my chest, exploring, the way I like to explore her. We touch each other constantly, it never stops stimulating.

She's straddling me and kissing me, hands in my hair, tugging. I can feel that she's wet; obviously, she'd be wet.

"Up," I say, and pat her on the ass with one hand. My other hand is reaching for the juncture between her thighs, fingers darting inside her wet panties. "Taste you…"

As Bella slides up my body, I kiss any and all flesh that is exposed and within reach and slide her panties down her thighs. I want them off completely. I want her bare to me, open. I want her coming, saying my name.

When her naked pussy is finally hovering above my face, I place my hands on her hips and spread her lips with my thumbs.

"You were such a good girl, Bella, swallowing me down." I lick her, tongue flat, one long stroke, and she squirms. I have to grip her tight to keep her in place.

"I just want to return the favor, baby." I kiss her clit lightly and nip at her lips. "But, you have to be quiet." I swirl my tongue inside her, tasting just how fucking ready she is, and she whimpers.

"Because we don't want everyone in the house to know what we're doing in here." I slide a thumb over, closer to her clit, placing pressure, gliding my tongue along the other side, and my middle finger into her. "We don't want everyone to hear you say my name when you come, Bella." My ring finger joins my middle finger and she clenches around them both. "But, I want to hear you."

My hand that's gripping her hip slips around to grab her ass, fingers curling around her cheek. My pointer finger takes up the clit position, complementing my tongue, and I know she's close.

I glance up and see Bella's grip is tight on the headboard. Her face is contorted in pleasure and she's trembling.

_Any second now…_

I breathe over her pussy and fuck her with my fingers as she balances on top of me, glistening with sweat and the moisture from inside her.

"Say my name, Bella." I swipe the side of her clit with my tongue, while my finger draws circles against the other side. "I want to hear you say it."

"Edward," she whimpers. Her eyes clench shut, and her pussy clenches tight, hips undulating against my jaw.

Watching her come makes me feel like a motherfucking king. And like a want to fuck her into next week.

She's breathing heavy, she hasn't stopped, and I'm hard as fucking stone. I work my way out from under her, and she lazily attempts to release the headboard.

"Stop," I say, placing a hand on hers. "I want you here." My hands travel to her shoulders and my thumbs dig into the muscles there. "Relax…"

I'm kneeling behind her, rubbing her neck and shoulders, then my hands trail down her back to her hips.

"Keep your hands on the head board, back flat, head down." I pull her hips with me as I back up. I want to take her from behind.

_Fucking condoms… Can't fucking wait until September twenty-fourth…_

I yank my nightstand drawer open, keeping one hand on Bella, thumb caressing the small of her back. My other hand finds a foil packet and I neatly tear it open with my teeth, finger, and thumb. With one hand, I roll it over my cock and take a deep breath.

"Ready?" One of my hands finds its way to her wet folds. She's more than ready.

Bella doesn't say a word. She simply nods her head and arches her back, shoving her ass into my hips.

"Always the eager girl." I chuckle and guide myself home, to the place I love. I push inside her slowly as my wet fingers grip her hip once more.

"Do you want it hard, Bella?" I thrust hard twice and she groans. "Or soft and slow?" I sit on my heels and guide her up and down, slow and steady, a few times.

"Fuck," she rasps, and I can hear that her teeth are clenched. "Fuck me. Hard."

"Hard, baby?" I sit up to kneeling again and pull her back roughly, then sit back down and do it slow.

If I fucked her slow and sweet, she'd like it, because I know just how to touch her and where, and just what to say to set her off. But, Bella likes the dirty talk.

"You like it hard, don't you Bella?" I tease her. She already told me she wanted it hard, and I'll do that. But, I kind of want to make her beg.

Bella moans and shoves back into me, trying to make me thrust harder, rougher.

"Come on, baby. Tell me how you want."

"Fuck!" Bella's frustrated, ramming her hips backward into me. "Please, Edward." She gasps. "I want it… hard."

"Fuck yeah, you do," I moan and give it up.

I fuck her hard, but slow, best of both worlds. I reach one of my hands around to place two fingers over her clit. The momentum of my thrusts causes friction between her clit and my fingers, and three thrusts later, Bella comes on my cock.

"Aaah!" Bella shouts. She's not always loud when she comes, so no matter how much I don't want to wake up my daughter, just two doors down, I love that I can make her get loud.

The tight throb of her pussy sends me over the edge as well, and I bite my lip to keep from calling out.

I think an entire ninety seconds passes before either of us moves from position. We're panting and sweating, and then we're laughing.

I pull out of Bella's body and discard the used condom in the nearby wastebasket. Bella groans and rolls to her back, her hair fans around and all over her face. Her smile is huge and her eyes are closed.

"Edward?" Bella swallows and breathe, laughing. "We are so awesome, you know that?"

I'm still laughing, but that makes me laugh a little harder. She is so fucking cute all worn out and messy, lying on my bed, smiling at us.

"I agree." I collapse next to her and take her hand in mine.

We talk quietly for a while about the next day. Bella has an event next weekend, so she'll have to be in the office every day this week. I tell her to come to dinner tomorrow night.

"Pops will more than likely want to grill," I inform her, as she makes her way to the bathroom to clean up before bed. "So, we should pick you up some Boca burgers or something."

"Sounds good." Bella yawns as she closes the door behind her.

I get up and remove the bedspread from my bed. It's a cool night, and with the French doors open, I think a heavier duvet would be much better for sleeping. I walk to my closet to retrieve pajama pants and when I come out, Delia and Mr. Gordo are in the middle of my room.

"I heard a noise, Daddy."

_Crap._

"Ohh…" I pick her up and she mumbles into my neck. "Well, it's pretty late. We should probably try to get back to sleep, don't you think?"

Bella comes out of the bathroom, wearing a long nightshirt in place of the bustier, and her hair is in a ponytail. When she sees I'm holding Delia, her eyes go wide.

"Delia heard a noise." I look at Bella and blink innocently. She bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing in embarrassment.

"Oh, baby girl…" Bella joins us and kisses Delia's cheek. "Do you think you can get back to sleep?"

Delia nods her head and reaches for Bella sleepily. I hand Delia over to Bella and tell them I'm going to grab another blanket from the linen closet. When I get back to my bed, Bella and Delia are under the sheets and Delia's already half asleep.

I shake out the new blanket over my girls and smooth it over the edges of the bed before climbing in to join them. As I drift off to sleep, I feel Bella's hand grasp mine, and I smile.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

"It's kind of surreal."

Peter and I are on the Rio Grande Trail, walking Kita and Buttercup, a six-month old, honey-colored pit bull with green eyes.

"His mother, whose name is _Esme_, by the way-"

Peter arches a brow, cutting me off. "That's a new one," he drawls and then hunkers down as the girls tussle and tangle.

"Yeah, Esme, dude. No joke." As Buttercup chews on Kita's ear, I crouch down to help Peter unravel their leashes. "Anyway, she's like the nicest person on the planet, but also this bizarre embodiment of wealth and refinement, like a fairytale queen or something."

"Old money," Peter says with candor. "She isn't self-conscious about the fact that she could buy and sell half this town in its sleep."

We get Kita and Buttercup separated for the time being and stand to continue our walk.

"And his dad?" I roll my eyes in embarrassment and whisper conspiratorially. "The Blessed Virgin would drop her panties for him."

Peter raises both brows at this and then begins to laugh as I continue to humble myself with the tale of the Cullen Clan.

"He's smooth talking and gorgeous, like – God forgive me for talking about my boyfriend's dad this way – sex on wheels."

"At least we know where Edward gets it." Peter stops while Buttercup poops on the side of the trail. He unties the bag from her leash and prepares to pick up her waste.

"I know, right?" I watch him squat to pick up Buttercup's excrement. "Huge bonus to see what Edward's gonna look like twenty-five years from now."

I'm lost in thoughts of Edward, graying at the temples, lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth as he laughs at something stupid I do. Peter stands to look at me, tying the poop bag and smirking.

"What?" I ask, suddenly feeling scrutinized by Papa Bear in a hand knit stocking cap.

Peter looks smug as we begin to walk again, and he tosses the bag into the nearby trash receptacle. "You're planning to spend the rest of your life with this boy, aren't you?"

I guess I never thought about it that way. Edward and I have only been seeing each other for… nine weeks? Today marks nine weeks since I met Edward Cullen. But, nine weeks can make a huge difference in a person's life.

"You think?" I ask Peter, as it dawns on me that I'm totally planning to spend the rest of my life with Edward.

"Don't look so terrified, Kitten." Peter stops and reaches out to place a palm against my cheek. "It's perfectly natural to nest. Look at me." He waves the same hand through the air in a flourish. "I met Garrett and I just _knew_." He shrugs.

"I told Rose I was worried that this was all about the sex or maybe Edward was my rebound guy."

Peter tucks an errant piece of my hair behind my ear and his voice softens. "You know better than that, Izz."

The girls have been waiting patiently, lying at our feet, panting and watching the world go by. Peter and I tell them it's time to go and the four of us make our way back down the trail to my Jeep.

I drive Peter to his house, and as he climbs out of my truck he reminds me to be at the old church by eight to set up for Garrett's surprise party. "I owe you and La Hale for doing this and for our anniversary party, love." Peter blows me a kiss and slams my door shut.

I pull away from his curb and head out past the airport to the animal shelter. When I pull into the parking lot, I notice Jacob's truck parked next to the loading dock.

Jacob volunteers for Seth and Sam, transporting dogs all over the valley and sometimes checking in supply shipment. Monday is food shipment day, so I guess Jake is on site helping them haul bag after bag of Iams off the truck and into the appropriate bins inside.

"Hey, guys!" I call out to Jake and Seth as I approach the building with Kita and Buttercup each on leash, hopping and snapping in the air.

"Hey, Bells!" Seth calls back.

Jacob smiles warmly and waves from behind Seth. He shakes his head and laughs at the dogs and me, approaching us with confident strides.

"Bells, you should just adopt Kita and tell Riley to jump off a cliff." Jake rubs Kita's neck, and she leans into his knees and does her little Rottie purr.

"Yeah," I reply with an eye roll. "And then Kita and Angel and I can all live happily ever after in the shoebox. The end." He laughs some more, as he usually does at my jokes. Jake has always laughed easily with me.

"Can you imagine how crazy making that place would be for Kita after being here?" I wave my hand around the acres of land on which the shelter sits.

"You and I both know that this dog thrives more from one-on-one attention and reassurance than playtime with twenty other dogs, hands down." Jake kneels and starts to wrestle with Kita, and I'm reminded of one of the things I always loved about Jake – when it comes to dogs, he's like Cesar Milan, intuitive, kind, calm. People in town actually joke and call Jake the Dog Whisperer of Forks.

"Remember the night Seth called to tell us about her?" I ask him, as I watch them with affection. I really miss being able to be with Jake like this. "That nightmare of a ranch in Woody Creek where she was abandoned? No food on the property and being shocked by that electric fence…"

I shiver at the memory of how skinny Kita was when we met her.

"Yeah, and Seth was like, 'you and Bells gotta come down here right away. This dog is perfect for you guys!'" Jacob shakes his head, reminiscing about a night more that eighteen months ago when we met Kita for the very first time. "He said, 'she's malnourished and been neglected, but she's got the soul of a guardian and the heart of a warrior.'"

Seth knew the Housing Authority wouldn't let us keep her, but he knew we'd fall in love her.

"Yeah, thank God Clallam is a No Kill County." I swallow the lump in my throat. Jake and I have been through a lot of shit together. "Still, the whole telling-Riley-to-jump-off-a-cliff thing really isn't my style, ya know? I'm more of the extending-an-olive-branch kind of gal."

Jacob stands again, brushing his hands together, and he abruptly changes the subject. "How's Cullen?"

His question makes me wonder if it's cliff diving or olive branches that prompted his decision to change the subject.

"Why?" It comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. I can't help but feel suspicious of my ex for asking about my current. Plus, I was just thinking how nice and peaceful our conversation was proceeding. "I mean, why do you ask?"

Jacob shrugs and looks somewhat uncomfortable as he looks over his shoulder at Seth, nodding to him. He pats Kita on the head once more as she sits calmly at his feet.

"Here, Bells." Seth is suddenly beside us, extending his hands toward the leashes that I'm holding tightly in my grasp. "Let me get the girls back inside. They'll need to eat soon."

I hand Kita and Buttercup off to Seth, and after he disappears inside the shelter there is an awkward moment where Jake and I look everywhere but at each other. Jacob rocks back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, hands in pockets.

"Look..." Jacob looks down and kicks a rock across the loading dock. "I'm not saying that Edward and I are buddies or anything, but I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

Now, I'm wondering if there's some kind of Love Edward Cullen drug in the water supply, what with Jake and Rose both bending in Edward's favor. Yet, part of me can tell that Jacob is determined to clear the air of something. So, instead of questioning, I listen calmly to what he has to say.

"Okay." I try to relax my stance to receive what Jake is about to tell me. I can tell that this is difficult for him and I have learned that in order for Jake to feel safe in expressing himself, it's important for me to remain as neutral as possible.

"Our last meeting…" Jake wanders down the loading dock ramp toward his truck, and I follow. The tailgate is open and he sits on the edge, motioning for me to do the same. "He, uh… He kinda shed some light on a few things. About Embry."

Jacob purses his lips and looks sideways at me as we're both seated on the tailgate of his red Toyota Tacoma. His truck is dirty and road weary, but he's put as much care into it as wear and tear over the years. He'll probably have this truck until the day he dies.

"When Embry brought me into the deal with his land and the loan, he didn't tell me everything, Bella." Jacob takes a deep breath and rubs his hands together. "It wasn't until the last meeting Embry and I had with Cullen and McCarty that I found out that there were several previous loans he'd defaulted on."

Jacob shifts his eyes to me again. I know very little about this deal. It's not really any of my business, but I know that Jacob wants me to know that originally he was doing what he thought was right for Embry and the community. He also believed that Edward was at one time on the other side of right.

"So," Jacob mumbles and motions outward, as if presenting something grand. "There you have it."

Jacob is a man of few words. This is as close to a heart-to-heart that I will ever have with him, past therapy sessions not included. And, to be honest, this is all we really need. Things are simple between us now, like they were in the beginning.

"There you have it," I echo his sentiment and nod my head. "Then we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good." Jacob smiles and relaxes his arms and shoulders as he hops off the back of his truck. "By the way," he continues speaking as he helps me down from the truck. "Not that this is a big surprise to you, but Leah and I set a date."

"Congratulations, Jake." I smile and move to hug him. I want him to know how happy I am for him. "You deserve it." I pull him into my arms and he returns the warm hug. "You deserve to be happy. Both of you."

There is no love lost between Leah and I, and Jacob knows this. Yet, he does deserve to be happy and I mean what I say. He doesn't question my well wishes and instead hugs me back with gusto.

"It won't be anything fancy." Jacob places me back on my feet after lifting me into one of his patented bear hugs. "It'll just be the Clearwaters, and my family's coming from Arizona."

"Sounds nice, Jake." I smile at him, checking for my keys and making a show of readying myself for departure. "You'll let me know if Sue or Leah need any references for caterers or… anything, yeah?"

"Course, Bells." Jake nods, shoves his hands in his pockets and goes back to kicking rocks again. "Thanks for the offer."

He and I both know that Leah would rather gnaw her own arm from her body than call me for advice, but I feel the need to contribute, if only in spirit.

I leave Jake at the loading dock with a sense of closure. It's funny that signing our divorce papers didn't give me this kind of closure. They always say it's the little moments that count.

I hop in my Jeep and back it out of the shelter parking lot, waving goodbye to my friend for now. I'm off to my other life. My new life with Edward.

Tonight, I'm having dinner with the Cullens. That sounds so ominous, _Dinner With the Cullens_, like it's a title for a book about a wealthy, mysterious family that irrevocably changes the lives of the people they meet.

I am filthy from not showering this morning, since I woke up late. Edward wanted a follow up to our three-tiered session of love from last night, but when I realized it was almost eight, I shot out of bed like a cannon ball.

He told me he likes the way I smell in the mornings, which I can only interpret as he likes me dirty. Either that or he was feeding me a line of crap so he could get laid. Or, maybe he loves me.

At any rate, I swear Edward must never sleep, because when I woke up, he had already fed Delia, gone for a run, and then showered without me.

Now I'm headed home after a day of event work and out-of-control dog walking. I really should get my eyebrows waxed before dinner, but I suppose a good tweezing will do for now. I have an appointment with Michael for a pedicure on Wednesday and he never lets me leave without a waxing as well.

I jog up my stairs to my apartment, fill Angel's Kitty Kitty Bang Bang food dish with Purina One, strip naked, and shower. When the water hits me, I sigh with satisfaction.

"Finally," I speak aloud into my shower stall to no one but myself.

EPOV

My mother and I are in my kitchen unpacking groceries and listening to my now four-year-old daughter do her very best to sing along with the latest and greatest Demi Lovato song. Obviously, if I didn't love my daughter as much as I do, I would have no idea who Demi Lovato is, and I wouldn't give a shit.

"Thanks for buying that CD for her," I say to Esme, and she rolls her eyes with a smile.

"You're very welcome, dear," Esme jokes and pats my hand lightly. "I'm sure you and Bella will enjoy it as much as Delia enjoys it."

"Yes," I laugh. "But, I have my suspicions that Bella might be more into the Jonas Brothers."

Esme laughs out loud at that as Carlisle enters the kitchen. He's wearing a Lord of the Onion Rings apron, and it makes me laugh to myself. But, I'm not about to give him the satisfaction so quickly.

"Nice apron, Pops." I squint and purse my lips, letting him know that I'm very, very serious in my assessment. "Did you bring that with you all the way from Chi Town?"

"Just keep doing what you're doing there," Carlisle says, as he carelessly wiggles his fingers at the vegetables I'm holding in my hands. "And keep your mitts off my apron." He pokes one finger in my face, then grabs Esme and dips her for a kiss.

I finally give up trying to appear somber. I chuckle, shaking my head and beginning to sort the vegetables we'll use for the grill pack. Esme squeals as Carlisle rights her on her feet once more. Then he smacks her on the ass and struts out onto the patio to heat up the grill.

"Your father…" Esme mumbles and tucks her hair behind her ears self-consciously before turning to face where Delia is playing in the dining room. "Delia, love, wash your hands. I need your expert help with these veggies." Esme turns back to me and shoos me out of the kitchen saying that I need to go call Bella and make sure she's on time.

I dig my phone out of my pocket to call Bella. Of course, I would never be so bold as to question her promptness, because Bella is always on time. Also, second-guessing her earns me a death glare and a little bit of venom. While I will not ever back down from a challenge that will further or strengthen my relationship with Bella, I'm not about to just blatantly pick fights with her when I know it can be avoided.

"Hey," Bella answers her phone, slightly out of breath. "I'm on my way. Can I pick up anything?"

"Well, hello, baby." I grin like a lovesick teenager while I answer her question. "Nah, I think we got everything. I even grabbed some of those Boca burgers you like, so if you were planning to bring some with you, don't bother."

"'K," she replies. "Hey, don't forget about Garrett's birthday party tonight. Everyone's welcome. I know Eric wants to talk to Alice about some kind of partnership with Dior."

Bella explains that she and Rose will have to be there a little early to make sure everything is set up. She says it's no big deal, they just ordered balloons and a cake and hired a bartender, but she wants to set Peter's mind at ease.

"So, just be there at like, nine?"

"Sure, baby." I fiddle with the stereo, looking for music to listen to while we get dinner ready. "Anything you want. I'll see you in…" I look at the clock on the wall, which reads five-fifty. "Ten minutes?"

"Yep," Bella responds, and I can hear the smile on her face.

"Oh, hey." I forgot to tell her about the letter I got in the mail today. _Fuck_.

"I, uh… I have to go to Chicago next week." Next week is Bella's birthday. "Tanya and I need to settle Delia's custody."

"Oh." Bella is quiet for a moment on the other end of the line. I wonder if she's hurt that I'll miss her 29th birthday. I know that's a big one for some people.

"Baby?" I really don't want to miss it, but making this custody and divorce process as smooth and painless as possible is my highest priority right now. "I'm sorry-"

"Edward, please…" Bella sighs. "If you're planning to apologize for missing my birthday, don't. This is important. You need to do this quickly and smoothly. For yourself and for Delia."

God, I love her. So fucking much. I doubt I'll ever be able to say it enough, but I tell her anyway.

"I'll see you in five minutes," Bella says quietly. "And I love you, too."

True to her word, Bella walks through my door right at six o'clock, carrying a four-pack of Guinness cans. I'm not saying that she'll drink all four cans, but my money's on two at dinner. And Bella weighs about a buck-twenty, soaking wet. She's looking to blow off some steam tonight.

"I guess we're staying at your place tonight after the party, huh?" I joke with her as I kiss her cheek and take the beer from her to place in the beer fridge on the patio.

"It's a lovely day for a Guinness!" Bella quips and smiles, accepting my kiss.

We join my parents and Delia on the patio for dinner. Emmett is at Alice and Jasper's working on some construction plans, and Heidi is taking the night off. After dinner, Delia drags Bella into the kitchen telling her about the Jello parfait she made just for her.

I can see that Bella is somewhat intimidated by the prospect of Jello as a dessert item. I distinctly remember her telling me one night after Jello shots at Bentley's that no human should ingest Jello unless it's loaded with vodka. She claimed the alcohol killed the natural evil in Jello. She was joking… I think.

Esme, Carlisle, and I clear the dinner dishes and join Bella and Delia moments later. When we enter the kitchen, Delia is standing on a footstool, feeding Bella a spoonful of Jello heaped with Cool Whip, another of Bella's fears.

Bella eyes me warily, but swallows down the red and white concoction with a smile. She actually smiles. She smiles at Delia and laughs, and then takes the spoon and feeds a little scoop to Delia. They take turns with the spoon until the parfait is gone.

Did I mention that I love this woman?

Dinner, Jello parfait, one Guinness, and two hours later, Bella decides to head down the hill to meet Rose at the renovated church where they're setting up Garrett's birthday party.

I walk her to her car and kiss her on her mouth, copping a feel of her tight, little ass. "Be good. Until I get there," I whisper in her ear and smile at her. She grins back.

Bella showed up tonight wearing an unassuming ensemble of jeans, a white tank top, and a fitted, plain, black hoodie. On her feet she wore simple, black wedges, or whatever she calls them, but I could see her red painted toes peeking out the tops.

She's natural with her accessories and make-up. But, she knows I like red. And she's been keeping her toes in varying shades of red the last two times she's gone for a pedicure. It drives me fucking crazy.

She climbs into her beat up old Jeep with a sly grin. I know that one Guinness in the past two hours isn't impairing her ability to operate a motor vehicle, but it definitely amplifies her inner flirt.

"See you soon, lover." Bella winks and purrs through her open window, and then she drives away.

I head back into the house to finish cleaning up the kitchen. Heidi has taken time off since my parents arrived, so Carlisle is in the Great Room with Delia, while Esme and I wipe down the counters.

"Okay," I say as I wash my hands in the sink. "I'm gonna head out. You and Pops have fun with Delia. I'll probably stay with Bella tonight, so don't wait up or anything motherly like that." I kiss Esme on the forehead, and she laughs.

Delia and Carlisle are sitting on the floor where she and Bella were drawing horses just a few days ago. Times like these make this spec house feel more and more like a home everyday.

I kiss Delia goodbye and remind her to be good for Grandma and Grandpop. She nods, yawns, and rubs her eyes. She'll be asleep before I even get to the party.

I take my Audi down to Alice and Jasper's. Emmett and Jasper are out on the porch. Jasper is playing guitar and singing a Todd Snider tune, while Emmett plays the harmonica. This is a very different kind of music than Jasper and I played in our college cover band, when I played electric guitar and Jasper was on the drums.

"Is that off his new record?" I ask, and Emmett nods and stops playing long enough to toss me a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

"PBR? Is everyone on a tear tonight?" I pop open the top of the tall boy and take a sip of the cheap beer. "Bella brought a four-pack of Guinness to dinner, and you know what that means."

Emmett and Jasper have gotten to know Bella pretty well. They know she's responsible and takes good care of herself. They also know that Bella likes to tie one on every once in awhile.

"Ah, little Bella." Emmett sighs and kicks back to sip from his own can.

"Speaking of little, where's Alice?"

"I'm here!" Alice sweeps onto the porch with a sparkling water in her hand.

"Designated Driver tonight, Al?" I joke, because we walk most places. She kisses my cheek and takes a seat next to where I'm sitting on the glider.

"Now, and for the next six to nine months," she answers, rubbing her non-existent bump.

"Aww." I hug her with one arm and kiss the top of her head. "Jasper finally did the job. Good man, Jas." I toast him with my PBR.

"When are you due?" I release her shoulders, and she turns her back to the arm of the glider, leaving one leg dangling and tucking the other underneath her.

"March fifth," Alice replies. "And, before you ask, we don't care what we have, as long as he's healthy."

"_He_?" Jasper arches a brow.

"You know what I mean, babe." Alice leans forward and rubs his knee.

A little after nine o'clock, we walk two blocks north to Hallam Street, then two blocks east to Second Avenue, where the old church sits on the corner. I can already hear the music throbbing from inside.

When we enter, I see balloons and streamers, strobe lights, several people dancing, and Bella. Bella doesn't dance like she's seducing anyone. As a matter of fact, Bella doesn't ever seem to be trying to seduce anyone. The sheer joy that she clearly derives from dancing open and wild with her friends like this is the sexiest fucking thing I will ever see in my lifetime.

She's removed her hoodie and her hair is falling untamed over her shoulders and her white tank top. She's sweating and smiling and jumping up and down holding hands with Peter and Rose.

"Jesus," I mutter.

"Ixnay the earingsway," Emmett stage whispers. "Esusjay is isteninglay."

"Wow," Alice deadpans. "He's really good at pig latin."

"You okay, man?" Jasper laughs and claps a hand on my shoulder as he watches Alice wander toward the bar area. She said something about getting a cranberry juice.

"Yeah, I'm good." I shake my head clear of my lust filled haze and PBR and stalk toward Bella and her friends.

They're dancing to "So What" by Pink. I know Bella loves this song. Whenever it comes on the radio, she turns up the volume and dances in the seat of the car, singing along and smiling.

Peter notices me before anyone else, as I'm sneaking up behind Bella. He howls at me and holds up a hand like he wants me to give him a high-five, but as I draw closer, he pulls me into a hug.

"Your girl is a _little_ tipsy," he mumbles into my ear. He then kisses my cheek and releases me, raising his voice jovially. "Welcome, Eddie! I'm so glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I reply and pat him on the back. "Did Garrett get the book I sent?"

"He did and he _loves_ it."

Bella is giggling with Rose and looking at me like we're at the Roll-a-Rena on a Saturday afternoon and it's time for the Snowball. I roll my eyes and reach out for her, pulling her into my arms as the song changes.

"Hi there," I mutter, rubbing noses and swaying to Lady Ga Ga. Bella bites her lip, drunk and suddenly shy. I realize that she was singing along with Rose, but is now tight lipped since the lyrics might imply to innocent bystanders that she wants to take a ride on my disco stick.

Sometimes she is such a contradiction, and that's just fine. I love her this way.

It is clear to me why Bella is so buzzed compared to when she left my house, because her and Eric are doing shots of Jagermeister. Definitely on a tear. We dance most of the night, sometimes slow and weaving, sometimes fast as I spin her and dip her and she squeals with delight. Garrett and Peter join us, and I tell Garrett Happy Birthday. Bella seems to be a little less sure on her feet as the night wears on.

Emmett doesn't dance, so Rose sits out a few songs with him. They talk with Eric and Chad and a few other people I recognize but don't know their names. Jasper and Alice come out to dance a few songs, but Alice gets tired early and has to leave around eleven.

At the stroke of midnight, Eric flashes the lights and shouts, "Drink 'em up, Shriners! It's time to head 'em up and move 'em out!"

As we say goodbye to everyone, Bella hops on my back for a piggyback ride.

"My feet hurt." Her voice is hoarse from yelling over the music and singing along. She also smoked half a pack of Camels tonight. Knowing we've both been trying to quit, I bet she's going to be pissed at herself in the morning.

"Take me home and sex me up like a superhero." She nuzzles the back of my neck as I wave to Emmett and Rosalie and head out the door.

I chuckle at her sleepy voice. "Who's the superhero in this scenario, you or me?" Believe me, I'd like to do some super things to her after watching her dance around in her little jeans and that white tank top. None them are remotely heroic.

"_You_, silly." Bella bites my shoulder, light, but still sending shivers down my spine. Her warm, tight body wrapped around my back is definitely testing my observance of civility. If I don't get her home soon, I just might be demonstrating my superhuman abilities to completely disregard public decency laws.

"Well, then," I start jogging the five blocks to her apartment. "I better get you home and show you what I'm made of."

Bella giggles and squeaks all the way home.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: this is the second to last chapter. Thanks for joining me. :)**

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

_Oh, my God, I love Edward so fucking much, he's so nice to me and he smells so good, even if he does make me eat Jello _with_ Cool Whip and _without_ vodka ._

Edward carries me on his back all the way to my house as I babble on and on like a drunken hosebag about his hair and his skin and the angle of his jaw. I tell him again that it's okay that he has to go to Chicago on my birthday, because he has to take care of things.

"Besides, you know I'm going to Vegas with Rose." I rest my head on his shoulder.

"I know, baby." Edward's voice is strained from hiking across town with his stupid, drunk girlfriend on his back. At least he stopped jogging after a block.

I don't know what made me think that I could wear these shoes dancing. I paid fourteen dollars for them at The Gap. It's not like The Gap is known for crafting sensible shoes.

Also, I drank _way_ too much Jagermeister at Garrett's party. I was determined to celebrate. Or something. I needed some kind of ceremony for closing one door and opening another, right?

_And that door is really closed now, Bella. Really, really. Like, really._

It's not that I want Jacob. It's just…weird to think of him _married to someone else_.

Edward climbs my stairs slowly, and I giggle because he must look like a Ralph Lauren wearing Sherpa, hauling a sad sack of Jager Bomb up two flights of stairs. I'm drunk and giggly, but deep down I know that he will always take care of me. I know Edward will always love me.

"You can put me down now, I'll just take off my shoes." I snort a little. "You don't need to carry me up the steps, too."

"Did you just snort?" Edward asks, laughing as he ignores my offer of respite and continues the climb to my apartment.

"Sorry," I mumble into his shoulder. "I hate it when I snort."

"It's cute," Edward breathes and makes it up the last flight of stairs in record time.

_My hero…_

"Okay, Superman," I tease. "Put me down."

Edward yanks my screen door open, then pushes the inside door open toward my closet. He sets me on my feet facing away from him. I hear the doors close and then suddenly feel his arms around me, unzipping my hoodie and dragging it down my arms.

"So," Edward begins to speak from behind me with that voice I know means that I'm in for it, and good. "You said to 'sex you up like a superhero.' Any specific requests, or shall I just use my spidey senses?"

I shiver at his tone, and giggle at his playful words. Edward's hands are on my hips and his lips are on my neck. I melt back into his chest and feel his cock rub against my ass through my jeans as I glance around my dimly lit living space.

I have mixed feelings about my apartment. On the one hand, I love that it's all mine. I'm independent, untethered. On the other hand, this space is so much better when Edward fills it with his pretty face and silky voice, his moans and laughs, and… I just-

"I love you," I say to him, twisting in his arms. I bury my face in his chest and feel the tears prick my eyes. I'm overwhelmed, exhausted from the past year and the divorce, but elated by Edward. Also, alcohol has a tendency to make me a tad emotional.

_Fucking Jagermeister._

"I can't stop saying it," I whisper and laugh through the tears welling in my eyes. They're tears of drink and joy. I feel like we may have unwittingly walked into a romantic comedy. I'd be played by Anne Hathaway, and Edward would be played by that British dude with the eyes… what's his name?

"What's that guy's name from Cold Mountain?" I pop my head up to look into Edward's eyes. He is clearly amused and confused.

"Uh, Jude Law?" Edward arches a brow in question as he pitches back, resting his ass on my dresser, pulling me with him by my hips.

"Yes!"

I run my hands down his chest to the hem of his shirt, suddenly desperate to see and touch his sinewy muscles and smooth skin. He releases me to quickly pull his shirt over his head, and then smirks at my drunken stumbling as I kick my shoes off.

I reach for the button of my jeans and Edward stops me. "Let me," he mutters and pops the button with a finger and a thumb.

I squirm and rest my hands lightly at his sides, my fingers settling on the edge of the dresser. He pushes my jeans down my hips and thighs, and pulls my legs free of the denim by my knees, holding the fabric to the floor with a booted foot.

Before I can register what his hands are doing at the scooped neck of my beater, he rips the thin fabric in one fluid movement. The smirk hasn't left his face, and the ruined material hangs from my shoulders as he stands and backs me into the center of the room.

"Do you trust me, Bella?" He's full of mischief, disposing of my torn shirt and tossing it to the couch behind me. I've decided that I love Superhero Edward.

"Of course." I grin and hope that he'll do something else equally as fantastic and unpredictable as he did to my shirt. I watch as he bends to slip my seamless, white satin panties to the floor.

"I'm going to need your full cooperation here, Bella." His hands go to my waist – right to my right side, left to my left side – and he bends at the knees. "I'm going to lift you, flip you, and fuck you with my tongue. All you need to do-"

"What?!" I laugh and start to back away, but Edward's grip tightens and I feel a boot slide behind my heel from the side.

"Trust me." Edward shrugs and grins, his sage green eyes twinkling in the soft light I turn on for Angel when I leave him alone. "It'll be fun."

I close my eyes and exhale, trying to relax. I think that maybe I shouldn't have challenged my boyfriend with talk of Superman.

"Okay, I trust you." I sigh, convincing myself, and him, that I'm ready to be turned upside down for this little excursion to Happyland.

"Okay." Edward's smile broadens. He hasn't taken his hands off of my waist, but he readjusts his stance. He lifts and flips me, and suddenly my thighs are resting on his shoulders, knees on either side of his head.

"Whoa!" I laugh in surprise, because Edward is much, much stronger than I thought he was.

"Grab onto my waist." I can still hear the smile that's been on his face since I snorted like a pig. His breath tickles the insides of my thighs as he kisses me and wraps one arm around my back, and the other across the back of my thigh. I feel his fingers parting my lips and his tongue touch my clit.

"Oh!" I giggle some more and fear that I might fall, but Edward's arm tightens around my waist.

"I've got you, baby," he reassures me.

"Edward, this is crazy." My cheek brushes his bare stomach, and I spy the happy trail that leads to my favorite place on earth. "I'm dangling like a bat from a tree branch."

"Mmm…" Edward hums and licks at my sensitive skin. "Maybe you should call me Batman instead of Superman."

I'm laughing full on, now, as my hands try to settle somewhere around his hip area. Edward's tongue does marvelous things to me, but… I'm hanging upside down.

"How about Pussyman?" I snicker, not thinking before I say it.

"Pussyman?" Edward's voice is suddenly serious and he bites my inner thigh. He walks to the couch and sits on the edge of its arm. I grasp the arm of the couch as our bodies shift, changing our center of gravity. I'm still hanging upside down, but he's sitting with his crotch directly in front of my face, now.

"I hope you mean that I'm a Pussy Master and not just a pussy." He swipes his tongue along the side of my clit and slips his middle finger inside me. I can feel his pinky dancing around the curve of my ass. "I hope I've proven myself to you, Bella." His ring finger joins his middle finger. "But, if I haven't…" His pointer finger massages the side of my clit not occupied by his tongue, and his pinky disappears between my ass cheeks. "Maybe this'll convince you."

He strokes me and fucks me with his fingers and tongue. I'm still upside down, but feel a tad more stable now that Edward isn't standing. I decide that I want to touch him, so I lift one hand from the couch and cup his cock through his jeans.

"If you're bored…" he teases me with his words and his fingers. "You can put both hands to good use. Open my pants and take out my cock."

I do as I am told, because… duh.

"I'm gonna lean back now, baby." Edward slowly reclines back over the arm of the couch. "Brace yourself with your free arm. I don't want you to bump your head." The tops of my feet and the fronts of my shins hit the cool micro-suede of my couch as he settles his head and shoulders beneath me on the seat cushion.

"Is that better? Less scary?" Edward asks. His hips are propped on the arm of the couch, legs draped over the other side of the arm, and I'm straddling his face.

"Yeah," I answer, as I take his cock in my hands. "But, I trusted you. You know that."

"Well, even superheroes need a break." He removes one wet finger from inside me and slips it behind to join his pinky. I gasp and clench his hard cock in my hands.

"From Pussyman to Buttman, huh?" I wiggle and tease, and he makes a growly noise, tightening a hand around my thigh.

_As long as he doesn't turn into Fartman, like my ex, we're good._

I brace one hand on the back of the couch, at my side, and guide his tip to my mouth with my other hand. I quickly realize that Jagermeister, jostling up and down, and a penis down your throat is not a good combination. I think better of the deep throat and resort to licking and stroking instead.

"Ooh, I know!" I giggle and caress him, cupping his balls in my other hand. "Supercock!" I laugh hysterically, cracking myself up.

"Bella…" Edward sounds irritated. "No dude likes to be laughed at during sex." He sighs as he twists us around until we're sitting independently on the couch, side by side. "Just sit here a minute. I'm going to fold out the futon."

He stands and removes the bedding from the futon to make our bed. I watch him move, shirtless, pants undone, as he sits on the readied bed to take his boots off. Seeing him untie the black laces reminds me of when he came back from Chicago and fucked me with his boots and clothes on.

_Ung._

I get up from the couch and walk toward him, unhooking my bra and flinging it across the room. By the time I reach the bed, Edward has removed his boots and he's standing again, pushing his jeans the rest of the way down his legs.

"Lay down." He nods at the mattress, and his voice is quiet and firm, no room for argument. Not that I'm going to argue with him when he's naked telling me to lay down. "On your stomach."

He stretches toward my dresser, his lean torso twisting and rippling, reaching for a condom. As I settle onto my stomach, I feel him kneel on the mattress and straddle my thighs, slightly pushing them together. I hear the condom wrapper tear and the unrolling of the latex as he covers his cock with the condom.

"We're gonna try something else." His voice is quiet and commanding with a gentle lilt. "Have you ever done the Jockey, Bella?" He weaves his left hand into my hair, turning my head.

I see him in my periphery, his right hand slipping between my thighs. He strokes me where I'm wet and kisses my mouth both tender and rough. So Edward – the convergence of what I need and want.

"No," I answer into his kiss. I don't even know what that means, but if Edward wants to ride me like I'm a prize horse at the Kentucky Derby, then so be it.

"Good." He bites my bottom lip before rising back to his knees and pulling his fingers from between my legs. "Then, it'll be a surprise."

I feel the head of his cock bump my cheeks and then rub down between my labia. I squirm and try to spread my legs, try to rise up on my forearms, see what's happening, but he won't let me. Edward places a hand between my shoulder blades and slowly guides himself inside me with his other hand.

"Stay there." His voice pours over me as he fills me, and… _fuck_.

"Fuck," I breathe. He's all the way inside, now, settling over my back, planting his hands just under the pits of my arms.

"Yeah," he whispers in my ear. "I'm going to fuck you, Bella. Hard. Just like you like it."

My fingers curl into the comforter as Edward sets his rhythm – steady and hard. I want to move, participate somehow. I start to flail my arms about, but Edward grabs my wrists and pins them to the mattress.

"Trust me." His voice surrounds me, holding me in place, and I'm immobilized by every part of him. I can feel him sliding inside me, in and out, hard and slow. His cock nudges and rubs my g-spot with every thrust. He's completely taken over.

This must be what it feels like to be totally, physically helpless. Realistically, I know that I could break free from him, get up, move about the cabin, but he's got this hold on me. It's overwhelming. I'm powerless, but I've never felt more free.

"Oh, God…" I'm coming harder than I ever have in my life. Maybe it's the Jagermeister, maybe it's the realization that I'm right where I belong, maybe it's Edward's supercock, but whatever it is, I come with him deep inside and all around me, holding me tight and calling my name.

EPOV

September is going to be a rough month. My parents are leaving on Friday, Bella has an event this weekend, and I leave for Chicago on Monday. By the time I get back, the month will be half over and I'll have missed Bella's birthday entirely.

I know she said it's not a big deal. She once told me that she doesn't care about her birthday, but she always goes out of her way to celebrate special days and events for her friends and loved ones. I just want to make everything good for her.

On Tuesday morning, it's business as usual. Bella and I touch each other everywhere and speak softly about what we'll each do that day and for the rest of the week. We shower together and Bella makes jokes about Aquaman. I roll my eyes and climb out of the shower to allow Bella to stay and rinse the conditioner out of her hair, and I start up the espresso machine.

When Bella's done with her shower, she walks out of the bathroom, clean and damp, smelling like fresh coconuts and cream. She's wrapped in a fluffy red towel and she's combing her fingers through her wet hair. I want to push her up against the wall, pull that towel from her body, and make her forget all about our obligations for the day.

"I love that you're so domestic," she says and accepts the tea I've prepared for her. She sips quietly and slowly with her eyes closed.

I think briefly about laying her down on her couch, pushing that thick towel up over hips-

"What's for breakfast, dear?" Bella jokes, as she wanders to her dresser to dress in what she calls her Forks uniform; tank top, yoga pants, flip-flops, and hoodie.

I hate leaving her for so long. But, then again, things are much more solid than they were last month when I went to Chicago. We're on the right path and we're both confident in that.

After Bella is dressed and she has buttered, honeyed, and spiced her toast with cinnamon, I pour a bowl of Special K Blueberries with skim milk for myself and join her at the pub table.

"When I get back, we can celebrate." I take a bite of my cereal, and Bella grins and sips her tea. "We have a lot to be happy about, baby. Your birthday, being together for three months, our mutually negative test results."

Bella's results came back negative, as did my preliminaries. I heard from my doctor yesterday, and she told me to come in for the HIV test the day I get back from Chicago. We'll only need to wait a few days for the results, then Bella and I can make love whenever and wherever we want. I cannot fucking wait.

I reach across the narrow kitchen space and punch the button on the espresso machine to get myself another shot of caffeine.

"And, how do you propose that we celebrate mutually negative test results?" Bella arches a brow, taking a bite of her toast.

I smile and lift the demitasse from the machine, bringing it to my lips for a drink. "I'm sure we'll come up with something."

As I expected, the busy week flies by. Bella comes for dinner on Thursday, wishing Carlisle and Esme a safe trip. Bella's event on Saturday exhausts her, but she says that she and Rose picked up a few leads for winter events.

On Sunday, Bella spends the night with me before my trip to the Midwest on Monday.

"Daddy, Bella needs a princess party," Delia says, as I rinse the suds from her hair. Bath time is one of Delia's favorite times. She loves water, and the bubbles and suds are an extra bonus.

"You think so, huh?" I ask her, pulling the plug out of the drain and getting a towel to dry her off.

"Uh-huh," Delia nods excitedly, as I lift her out of the tub, wrapping her in the towel.

"Well..." I dry her hair with another, smaller towel. "Maybe you can help me plan something, then."

"'K." Delia nods again and pats my cheeks with her tiny hands as we walk out of the bathroom and head to her room to get her dressed for bed.

Delia will stay in Forks with Heidi and Emmett while I'm gone. Bella has even agreed to spend the night here with her until she leaves with Rose for Vegas on Thursday.

I'm so thankful for Bella's love for Delia and her influence on Delia's life. Bella and I are adults, so our different backgrounds are less obvious than they would be if we were in college or, God forbid, high school. But, until now, all of the women in Delia's life have been privileged or employed by my family. But, Bella is her own woman in every sense. Soon, Delia will realize that it's not just Bella's dark locks and eyes that make her different from Mommy, Grandma, and Heidi, and that Bella offers her a unique perspective on this world.

After I read to Delia and tuck her in, I head down the hall to my room. Bella is propped up reading a book of her own and laughing.

"What are you reading?" I head to my closet for the pajama bottoms that match the shirt Bella has commandeered since she started sleeping over regularly.

"One of those Stephanie Plum books." Her voice follows me as I rid myself of my clothes and pull on the cotton pants. "I don't know why I keep reading. It's the same story over and over, but it cracks me up."

"Well, that's worth your time, right?" I toss my dirty clothes into the hamper and exit my closet, switching off the light and closing the door behind me.

"Yeah." Bella shrugs and yawns, then closes her book, setting it on the nightstand beside her. "I guess I just feel like I should be reading Dostoyevsky or something…"

I laugh and pull my covers back to climb into bed with Bella. "Why on earth would you waste your time with 19th-century Russian existentialism when you can laugh your ass off at 21st-century Jersey girl, bounty hunter hilarity?" I ask, as I switch the reading lights off, and the moonlight glows through the French doors.

Bella read a few passages to me from _Finger Lickin' Fifteen_ just the other night. She calls it fluff, I think it's funny and it suits her perfectly.

"Ugh," Bella groans as she snuggles into my side. "You're right. I should just accept that I'll never be a philosopher."

"You're a genius, baby." I kiss her temple and squeeze her tight. "You don't need to read 200-year-old Russian literature to prove that to anyone."

My flight on Monday is uneventful. I send a text to Bella saying that I have made it to Chicago safely, and take a cab from the airport to my house.

Tanya has flown into Chicago from Passages Malibu, and this week she's staying with her parents while we get this paperwork done. Neither of us felt it appropriate that we stay in the same house this week, no matter how much space we have or how well we get along.

At my house, I drop off my bags, change my clothes, and head to a meeting with Tanya and our attorneys. We have decided to meet at my offices downtown. As I greet Nick, the doorman at my office building, and press the button on the elevator, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

_i 3 u :D_

I smile at Bella's message and am returning my love to her when I hear a familiar voice from my left.

"Hey, you."

I turn to see Kate approaching me, coffee cup in hand. She looks tired. Kate and I have always worked in tandem as support for Tanya. These past few months, Kate has been alone in that effort.

"Hey." I send the message to Bella, return my phone to my pocket, and embrace Kate like the sister she will always be to me.

"How ya doin'?" Kate asks as we end our hug.

The elevator dings and opens, and Kate and I step inside.

"I'm good, actually." I sigh as the doors close, leaving Kate and I alone to speak freely for approximately twenty floors, providing no one else boards the car between then and now. "I suppose it'd be easier for you to hear that I'm suffering as much as Tanya, but…"

"No, Edward." Kate shakes her head, resolved. "I don't want you to suffer. You and Tanya are grown people, each of whom made grown up choices. I love you both." She is genuine as she smiles. "I wish you well, E."

"Thanks, Kate," I answer. "And thanks for watching over her, taking the brunt of this alone."

"Meh." Kate smiles wryly and waves her hand dismissively. "It is what it is."

Kate has always had this clear view of the world. She's a straight shooter, unflappable, and a pillar of strength to her sisters.

The elevator stops on the floor for my offices. Kate and I unload, and she heads to the balcony doors, pulling her phone from her pocket.

"Tanya's already inside, E." She nods toward my office doors. "I'll see you a little later. Maybe we can grab a cup of coffee while you're in town?"

I reach out a hand for hers and pull her closer for one more hug.

"Sounds good," I mutter into her hair. "I'll call you."

I enter the offices of Denali & Cullen and am instantly greeted by Andrew, our intern, at reception.

"Mr. Cullen!" Andrew exclaims. He's a bright kid with an amazing future ahead of him. "Everyone is here and waiting… They were all a little early today."

"No problem, Andy." I smile, calling him by the shortened name he prefers. For some reason, I always think of him as Andrew, but call him Andy. "Thanks for letting me know."

My grandfathers, Edward Masen and Anthony Cullen, were founding partners of this firm with Tanya's grandfather, William Denali. I work with Tanya's father, not closely, but we're both part of the family practice. No matter what happens with Tanya and me, or where I'm based, I will always be part of this practice.

I enter the meeting room where Gabe, my attorney, Tanya, and her attorney, Garrett, are all getting settled.

"Edward," Garrett greets me and nods. Tanya smiles and waves half-heartedly. She looks… good. Clean, calm, healthy.

"Okay," Gabe sighs and waves me toward a seat. Gabe and I have spoken on the phone three times today already. "Why don't you take a seat and we'll get started?"

I nod in agreement. There's a lot of nodding. Tanya and I have settled most of this verbally. Today, we just need to iron out some details and sign the documents.

"You look great," I quietly speak to my soon-to-be ex-wife, as I sit across the table from her.

"Thanks," she modestly replies and fiddles with her pen.

"Edward and Tanya," Garrett starts to line up copy after copy of our custody and divorce agreements. "The two of you have agreed that you, Edward, will have temporary sole custody of Delia until Tanya has finished her rehabilitation with Passages Malibu." That is correct." I annunciate my words, used to never simply nodding when asked or asking questions in a legal situation.

"Yes," Tanya agrees, and we each sign a dotted line.

"Further," Garrett continues speaking and flipping through pages of the agreement. "You, Edward, have agreed to pay all taxes and fees associated with these proceedings as well as a to-be-determined settlement based on Delia's future custody, correct?"

"Yes," I agree and sign my name again before watching Tanya do the same.

"And, as the agreement states," Garrett says as he shuffles more papers. "If Tanya's rehabilitation and recovery is satisfactory, we will return to mediation on November the fifteenth, 2009."

"Okay, then…" Gabe recaps his pen after every last signature has been acquired. "Tanya will just…" Gabe shrugs waves the pen in the air with a laid-back approach to this process. "File the papers with the judge."

"And, uh…" Garrett rearranges the papers, busying his hands. "I don't foresee any difficulties. Everything is in order."

After we sign, Tanya and I say a clean goodbye. Kate will take her to Carmen's, and I won't see Tanya again until November.

As I signed the papers, I felt nothing close to what I felt the day my mother discovered Tanya with the pool boy so many months ago. I didn't feel sadness, regret, or uncertainty. I felt relief, finality.

I'm surprised this isn't harder on me. I've spent my entire life caring for Tanya, but I'm free now. It feels as if there's been an enormous weight lifted. I'm finally able to live my life the way I want, the way I always hoped was possible. Bella is a big part of that.

Throughout the week, I pack up the rest of my and Delia's things to ship to Forks. Every night I talk to Bella or Delia, sometimes both. I love how they are together. Bella is careful and nurturing with Delia, but entirely unlike Tanya or Heidi. Bella has a certain way of talking to Delia, bringing out Delia's creative side. They both make me so proud.

On Thursday night, I get an email from Alice. That day, before Bella and Rose's flight out of Forks, Bella went to the animal shelter with Alice to help her adopt a dog.

There are several images attached to the email, most of them of a dog almost as big as Alice herself. Alice tells me in the text of the email that Bella helped her adopted the "most adorable Lab ever".

There are also a few images labeled "Bella and Kita". Bella looks beyond happy in the pictures. She's laughing and kissing this dog with the kind of love and sincerity I see when she's with Delia, Rose, or Peter.

The text of the email from Alice says something like "Edward, your girlfriend is awesome. Check out these pics. Blah blah I'm an all-knowing little fairy blah," but I'm too preoccupied with thoughts of Bella and Kita to notice.

As I send an email to Seth Clearwater, I start to plan _exactly_ how I'm going to acknowledge Bella's birthday.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

Vegas was exactly as Vegas should be: hot, lazy, and drunk. Well, maybe that was just me that was drunk. That said, I am certain that Rose was slightly over-served at the Bellagio on Saturday. Those Armenian "businessmen" thought we were both cognitively disabled, but fuck, we were on vacation and blowing off steam.

I spoke to or texted Edward just once a day, which was refreshing. I remember the last time Rose and I went to Vegas. Jake called me about 800 times a day, wondering what I was doing, if I met anybody "interesting," and if I was "having fun."

Again, Edward is nothing at all like Jake. Edward is confident, patient, good at phone sex, and even better at homecomings.

When Edward left for Chicago a few days before my Vegas trip, we agreed that when we were both back in town, we would celebrate my birthday and what I like to call our "new beginning."

We were each tested for all imaginable STIs. I wasn't exactly worried, but Edward has had a lot more experience than I have. I use two fingers to count my previous sexual partners, while Edward needs two hands and both of his feet.

He told me that he had never had sex without a condom. I don't know why that surprised me. Maybe the fact that he's surely had an alarming number of opportunities to conveniently forget to use one, but Edward is nothing if not diligent. He's careful with his health and the safety of others, which is great. But it isn't just my safety that I'm thinking about when I think about this decision we've made.

When I was 14 years old, my mother went with me to the doctor because I had horrible cramps and was being a moody bitch – _Welcome to the teen years!_ The doctor recommended that I go on birth control pills, and my mother agreed. So when my boyfriend and I decided to have sex the night of our senior prom, I thought I was prepared. When I found out later that he was boffing Sheila Behrendsen from the Catholic high school, I was once again rushed to the doctor for tests.

Since then, I have rarely been without a condom. I mean, I always trusted Jacob to be faithful, and he used condoms with previous partners, but who wants the mess?

Turns out, I do.

I want the mess and the spontaneity and the sweat and the sensation… I want Edward. Every part of him.

Three months into this thing, and I'm farther than I've ever been with anyone. I know that I love him and I can see myself with him in the future. Forever, that's the whole point.

So when I get off the plane and Edward is standing at the gate, holding Delia's hand in one of his own and Kita's leash in the other, I start to cry. I drop my bag and walk swiftly to meet them.

Kita is hopping around, howling, begging for my attention. I tell her to sit, and I take her head in my hands for a little kiss on her nose. She stays relatively calm and quiet while I hug Delia.

I don't even have to ask if she's mine. I know Edward adopted her out right. Kita and Delia are each wearing pink t-shirts that say "Happy Birthday, Bella!" in silver, sparkly puff paint (I'm assuming it was Alice who decorated the t-shirts for the girls.) But what really tips me off that Kita will be cozied up in bed with me at night is her pink Swarovski crystal collar, matching leash, and a brand new, shiny name tag dangling prominently from her neck.

I just turned twenty-nine, my business is thriving (even in this economy), I have the most amazing friends in the world, a beautiful boyfriend, with an even prettier little girl, and now, my very own Kita.

I don't say a word as tears run down my cheeks. I stand up to face Edward and he hands me Kita's leash, his fingers brushing mine. I pull him into my arms, and I see Rose hug Emmett and then turn to pat Delia and Kita each on the head.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"You're welcome, baby." Edward's voice is warm and inviting in my ear. He nuzzles and kisses my neck and his hands lightly grasp my hips. "Happy birthday."

"This is the best birthday present ever," I mumble and sniffle into his neck. Kita will technically have to live with Edward, but I can take her for a run or a nap whenever I want.

Edward inhales slowly and deeply through his nose. "Oh…" His voice lilts, teasingly, as his fingers play with the hem of my black structured button down. "I have a few more tricks up my sleeve."

Emmett startles me by laughing loudly. Edward and I turn to watch Kita dance on her hind legs with her paws in Rose's hands, and Delia giggles.

"Let's get this party started," Edward says and nudges my shoulder. "Can I take your bag?"

I love that he offers to carry my shit and to cook for me, and I realize that I just need to give in and let him take care of me. It's sweet and romantic and in no way an indication that I can't do it myself. He told me as much.

"Here ya go, big guy." I thrust my bag at him. Obviously, I can't just let him take care of me without making light of it. Because I'm an overthinker. I think too much. I'm all think-y. "Knock yourself out."

We all pile into Emmett's Range Rover. Thankfully they didn't bring the Audi to pick us up. There is no way that all our bags and bodies would fit in Edward's flashy little car. At least I know he isn't overcompensating for any shortcomings with a sporty vehicle.

As we ride into town, Delia tells me all about how Kita "likes the yogurt, apple, and banana treats, but the liver treats make her stinky." She sounds like a little authority on Kita's behavior, and it's adorable.

"When did you pick her up?" I ask Edward, just now noticing that white button down that I love so much. He must have gone shopping, because he's also wearing very new-looking dark wash jeans.

"Monday afternoon," he answers with a smile, playing with Delia's curls. "Heidi and Delia picked me up at the airport, and I had an appointment scheduled with Seth. It worked out really well."

"I'm glad they've had fun together." I watch with a silly grin as Delia pets Kita's neck and fondles the "diamonds" on Kita's collar. Kita sits on the floor between Delia's dangling feet and watches calmly and attentively out the window as we coast down Highway 82.

Emmett turns right onto Galena Street toward Rose's place. Once he parks, he hops out of the car at the same time Rose does, helps her with her bags, and then comes around to Edward's window.

"Hey, why don't you take your girls on up to the house?" Emmett leans on the doorframe, watching Rose out of the corner of his eye. Rose waves to me and struts toward her door, flipping through her keys. "I'm gonna welcome my lady home the _right_ way. We'll bring Rosie's car up later for dinner."

Edward rolls his eyes and nods. I'm thinking what I assume he's thinking; I wish he could welcome _me_ home the right way. However, we have Delia. I'm not complaining, but I could do with a little welcoming is all I'm sayin'.

Edward climbs out of the back seat, leaving me with Delia and Kita, and jogs around to the driver's side, taking over the wheel.

"Just sit back and relax," Edward calls over his shoulder, adjusting the mirrors and seat, then shifting the car in gear. "Daddy'll take care of everything." He smirks in the rearview mirror and pulls away from the curb. I'm pretty sure his referring to himself as "Daddy," even to me, was not a slip up.

_Jerk. I _really_ want to be welcomed right now._

Once we're settled into Edward's cozy little mansion on Red Mountain, I find myself, once again, doing something domestic and stereotypically mom-like with Delia. Last time it was lemonade, this time it's apple pie. As we roll out the dough and fill the first crust with sliced and spiced apples, I think fondly of the times I used to bake with my mother.

"My mommy's been sick," Delia says, apropos of nothing. She quietly fiddles with the discarded dough, making shapes and getting flour all over her sparkly pink t-shirt. "She had to go away."

I try to think of some way to make her feel less bereft, even if her four-year-old mind doesn't yet grasp the concept. I know that someday, she'll realize that Tanya has been a good mother to her in her own way, just as I finally realized that Renee was a good mother to me.

"Yeah, I heard about that," I respond as I carefully lay the first top crust over one of the filled pie plates. "You know, sometimes people just need to be alone, D. It doesn't mean she won't need you again soon."

Delia purses her lips and appears to think intently about my not-so-profound comment. She's having a difficult time with this transition of being without her mother, living in a new town, and not seeing her grandparents.

"Is she mad at me?" Delia asks. I have to remember she's just a little girl, because my first reaction is to say "No! What makes you think that?" when I should really be explaining to Delia that situations like this are not always what they seem.

"No." I watch her carefully as I grab another pie shell. "But sometimes things are complicated, layered." I shrug as I fill the shell with apples. "First and foremost, your mom loves you. But then, she has a bunch of other personal stuff in the middle of everything that kind of confuses things." As I pick up the top dough layer, Delia props her tiny elbows on the counter, placing her chin in her hands, getting flour on her rosy cheeks. "But, the real truth, the deepest level, is that she loves you. Don't forget that."

Delia eyes me thoughtfully.

"Layered." I crimp the edges of the piecrust. "See?"

She grins slowly, understanding and relief dawning on her face. I thank God that my gibberish has at least brought a smile to her face.

"Like with pie?" she asks.

"Yes," I declare, very proud of myself, as I butter the top of the pie and slide it across the counter. Delia carefully sprinkles the pie with the measured cinnamon and sugar mixture I put together. "Just like that."

EPOV

I made two appointments the afternoon of my return – one with Seth Clearwater to meet Kita and one with Dr. Harling to have blood drawn for an HIV test.

I told Delia before I left for Chicago that when I got back, we would work on Bella's birthday surprise. I also told her that part of the surprise would include meeting a friend of Bella's. What I didn't tell her was that the friend was furry and had four legs. I didn't want to risk Delia slipping up and inadvertently telling Bella about my plan.

When Heidi and Delia picked me up from the airport on Monday, we headed just across the highway to the Forks Animal Shelter, where Kita has been living for more than a year.

"_Seth?" I asked the large man behind the counter, as Heidi detoured to the cat room. "Seth Clearwater?"_

"_No," he answered firmly, looking me up and down. "I'm Sam. You need Seth?"_

"_Yes," I answered with a smile, looking down at Delia as she gripped my hand tightly and tried to hide behind my leg. Her eyes were like saucers, wide with both excitement and uncertainty about our location. "We have an appointment to meet Kita."_

_Sam flipped his logbook closed and smirked. "You must be Cullen."_

_I recognized the disdain in his response from years as a lawyer being stigmatized as an opportunist and a leech. I also remembered Bella telling me that Jacob Black has a good friend named Sam, who founded the animal shelter. He must've been so pleased to see me that day. Heh._

"_Yes," I nodded and remained pleasant for Delia's sake, and the sake of my professional reputation. "I'm Edward Cullen, and this is my daughter, Delia."_

"_Huhn," Sam grunted, and reached down the length of the counter, pushing a button on an intercom, never taking his eyes off me. "You're planning to adopt, then?"_

"_If it's a good match, yes." I nodded, as Delia fidgeted by my side._

"_Kita's a good dog." Sam rolled back on his heels, looking down his nose, hands in his pockets. _

_He was challenging me to argue that somehow this dog that has been in his care may not be "good" or worthy. He was scrutinizing me, but if it meant that I could make Bella happy and give this dog a solid and permanent home, I'd take it. _

"_She's good with kids, cats, other dogs..." Sam walked around the counter, switching his gaze to Delia. He let up on the bad cop act with a warm grin down at her. "Kita helps us take care of the other dogs that come to live with us. Plus…" He dropped into a crouch in front of Delia. "She's Bella's favorite."_

_Sam said Bella's name with a hint of annoyance as well as admiration. It was as if he were begrudgingly acknowledging Bella's big heart and good intentions._

"_Bella's our friend," Delia smiled and stared at Sam's dreadlocks, clearly fascinated with her new acquaintance._

"_Bella's a friend to a lot of people." Sam nodded before jutting a thumb over his shoulder, pointing behind him toward the kennel area that Delia just noticed behind the glass. "Especially these dogs."_

_Before we had a chance to wonder about Seth or Kita, the door behind the counter swung open. A smaller man with wire-rimmed glasses walked into the reception area with a large, excited dog at his heel. I assumed from the rich coloring and docked tail, which I recognized from the photographs, the dog was Kita._

_Delia squeaked with joy, hopping up and down. Bella's birthday surprise was quickly becoming doubly gratifying._

"_Hi, I'm Seth." The young man switched the leash to his other hand and reached out to shake mine. "And this..." He nodded toward the reason for our visit. "…is Kita."_

_Kita reared up on her hind legs and howled, putting on a show. She spun around and danced, and I had never seen Delia so thrilled in my life._

_I laughed and watched Delia rush to be near Kita. There was a brief flash in my mind of Delia being knocked to the ground, and I reached for her to pull her back. But before I had a chance to overreact, Kita immediately calmed, sat in a submissive position, and allowed Delia to pet her._

_I marveled at how well mannered Kita was with Delia, an eager child. But aside from the requisite face lick, at which Delia giggled hysterically, and a lift of her paw for a high-five at Seth's request, Kita was a perfect lady._

_Seth returned to the counter, and as I turned to discuss policies and to sign Kita out for the day, Sam crouched back down on the floor with Delia and Kita. I half-listened to Seth's general rules about no treats and keeping Kita on a leash in public for liability's sake, while Delia chatted excitedly with Sam._

_After Heidi came out of the cat room, we left the shelter with the agreement that we would either call or bring Kita back by two o'clock the following afternoon. Judging by the way Kita gently nuzzled Delia's hands in the back seat of Heidi's Volvo, I was betting that a phone call would be in order._

I wasn't entirely surprised when Dr. Harling called Wednesday morning with my negative test results. I've never had sex without a condom – not with Tanya or Jenn, the girl who was _almost_ a girlfriend in college – and I've been tested regularly. But I was suddenly very anxious.

The thought of being that close to Bella makes me want the things I've always wanted, but resigned that I may never have. I wanted to build a life with her, like my mother said. I wanted to keep her safe.

And I wanted to fucking nail her when I saw her walk off that plane in that short, gray plaid skirt. Not like Catholic School Girl slut-wear, but the boots… Jesus Christ, the boots.

Once Emmett has abandoned us, and we are unloading the Range Rover in my car park, I confront Bella about her choice of footwear.

"Knee-high Doc Martens, Bella?" I ask as we stroll toward the door of my house. Kita is off leash trotting alongside Delia, and I'm counting down the minutes until Heidi gets here and I can take Bella upstairs to my room. Or on the stairs. Whatever.

"What?" Bella feigns wide-eyed innocence. "I thought you'd like them."

I arch a brow at her repartee. Clearly, she thinks she's funny.

"Cute," I nod and follow Delia, Kita, and Bella through the front door. "I do like them." I grab her and pull her back against the front of my body, letting Delia wander into the kitchen with Kita a few seconds ahead of us. "A lot." I make sure she feels how much I like the boots and whisper in her ear. "And, I'll show you just that once I get you back to your apartment tonight."

While Bella and Delia mix up apple pies, I prepare the rest of Bella's present. I purchased a simple birthday card and placed a mock certificate stating that I'm negative, in the best possible way, of any and all STIs. I hope she appreciates the gesture.

I call to check on the cake I ordered for our small birthday celebration. I text Emmett and tell him that I need him to pick it up for me. I've also made Bella's favorite veggie lasagna, and after the pies are done, I pull the lasagna from the refrigerator and slip it in the oven to bake.

At six-thirty, Emmett and Rose burst into the house. Well, Emmett bursts, Rose is much more graceful, chuckling and shaking her head.

"Here's the cake." Emmett sets the box of Devil's Food with milk chocolate frosting – straightforward and tasty, just like Bella – on the island in the kitchen and begins to take it out of the box. "It looks fucking delicious."

"Yes." Rose smacks a wayward finger, as Emmett tries to sample the frosting. "And you can just wait like the rest of us." Rose snatches the cake out of Emmett's clutches and saunters to the buffet on the other side of the kitchen. "Do you have that platter we used for Delia's cake, Edward? I can get this all set up for you."

"Hey," Bella calls as she and Delia enter the kitchen from where they were coloring in the living room. "Oh, you guys…" She looks self-conscious about the cake. "I told you not to make a big deal. Plus, Delia and I made pie for dessert."

"We didn't make a big deal, B." Rose shrugs, responding immediately. She knows how to deal with Bella after years of knowing her. "It's just cake. And you know how much Emmett likes cake." After setting the cake safely on the platter behind her, Rose turns and leans against the counter, folding her arms in front of her. "Think of it as more for him than anyone."

Emmett tiptoes across the room, making a play for the cake again. "In that case-"

Rose glares at him, not moving a muscle. "Don't even think about, McCarty."

We eat dinner around seven. Bella moans over the lasagna and the wine, effectively securing my hard on to the point that I cannot allow Delia to sit on my lap the rest of the night.

After dinner, we have cake and ice cream. Delia gives Bella a series of pictures she drew for her while Bella was in Vegas. Emmett and Heidi helped Delia put them into a little spiral-bound book. As Bella flips through the book, tears form in her eyes for the second time today.

"Oh, D…" Bella's lip quivers as she reaches for Delia's hand and pulls her into a hug. "This is perfect. Thank you."

"Happy Birthday, Bella," Delia mumbles against Bella's shoulder. Bella laughs at Delia's four-year-old vernacular; her Ls still sound like Ws.

Emmett, Rose, and I clear the dinner and dessert dishes while Bella tucks Delia in for the night. It's sweet she wanted to do that. She's never done it on her own before. I watch her walk slowly up the back stairs with Delia in her arms, telling stories about the dancers she and Rose met in Vegas and their pretty, jeweled costumes.

Heidi comes home from the gym around eight-thirty. She's been spending a lot of time with her friend, Asia. And while I told her she was welcome to join us for Bella's celebration, she politely declined, saying that she had other plans that afternoon.

I welcome her home and remind her that I'll be spending the night with Bella. The things I want to do with Bella tonight are things I'd rather do out of earshot of my four-year-old.

"Yes, I know." Heidi chuckles and pats Kita on the head. "Why don't you go now? You look a little…" She snorts and rolls her eyes. "Keyed up."

I thank her for her understanding. Heidi doesn't know about the bareback plan, but she does know that Bella and I have been separated for over a week.

When Bella comes down the stairs, I give her just enough time to say goodbye to Emmett, Rose, Kita, and Heidi before grabbing her bags and dragging her out the door toward my car. Not as if she argued.

"God, I love you in this shirt," Bella breathes between biting and sucking my neck as she straddles one of my legs. Her skirt is riding up her thighs, as I cruise down the mountain. I can feel heat through my jeans. I'm sure she's getting me wet. "I can't wait to take it off of you."

I'm ready to pull the car over. The thought that I can be inside her, right now, no hindrance, no precaution. Just pull her panties to the side and let her sink down onto me…

"Baby," I suck an earlobe between my lips and keep one eye on the road and both hands on the wheel. "We need to take it easy." She pulls my hair and slips her other hand into my jeans, brushing my cock. "I'm gonna wreck the car and end up fucking you on the side of the road."

"Okay." Her voice is flippant, breathless. She pulls at my buttons with her hand that isn't jacking my cock, and she's grinding over my hipbone. "As long as you fuck me."

_Jesus Christ._

I pull the car to the side of the road and park. "Make no mistake," I say as I turn to take her head in my hands, twining my fingers in her hair. "I _am_ going to fuck you." I look into her wide eyes, her lips swollen from kisses and nips.

"But first…" I soften my approach, kissing her lips lightly. "I need to give you something." I release her and pull the card out of the door pocket where I hid it when we left my house.

I hand Bella the card and she looks contrite. "Edward, I told you not to do this."

"Just…" I close my eyes and shake my head. "Open it."

Bella seems to barely be able to contain her smile when she sees the contents of the card. She squeals and throws her arms around me.

"Remember this is the first time for me, without a condom." I feel like I'm adding a disclaimer. Like, if it sucks, if I suck at sex without that barrier, I want her to know that I have an excuse.

"I know, I'm just…" She sighs and shakes her head. "Eager." She reluctantly disentangles herself and climbs out of my lap. I watch her squirm in her seat and buckle up.

"Just be patient." I reach over and flip her skirt up, exposing her panties and bare legs. I put one hand on the wheel, put the car in drive, and go back to touching her. She opens her thighs and sinks into the seat, giving me better access.

"We'll be there before you know it." I pull back onto the road, glancing at her lap and what I'm doing with my fingers.

She lifts her hips and I yank her panties down her thighs, halfway to her knees. Bella gasps as she grips the bar on the ceiling of the car and I slide my fingers up and down her opening.

I grin as we come to a stop at the four-way of Mill and Main, two of my fingers disappearing inside her.

"Yeah," Bella groans and bites her lip, gripping the bar tight in one hand and my busy hand in her other. "Just like that. More."

I feel like a teenage boy, finger fucking his girlfriend in his car, so ready to be inside.

We pull away from the stop sign and I pray that the light on Main Street stays green as I fly through that last intersection. Just as I'm slowing the car to park in front of the Wheeler Opera House, one block away from Bella's apartment, she stomps one silver Doc Marten against the dashboard and clamps down around my fingers.

"Fuck!" Her grip on my wrist makes me want to push everything I have inside her all at once. I can never, ever get enough of this woman.

She's out of breath, head lolling on the headrest, as she releases my wrist. I pull my fingers out and lick them clean, while I park the car one-handed.

"Mmm…" I lick my lips, turn off the engine, and unfasten my seat belt, before pulling her panties the rest of the way down her legs and shoving them in the pocket of my jeans.

"Thanks." Bella rolls her head to the side and beams at me as she unbuckles her own belt and leisurely climbs out of the car. I exit, lock the doors, and follow Bella as she wanders toward her apartment.

I hang back just a little bit, watching her walk, watching her hips sway in her gray plaid skirt.

"Like whatcha see?" Bella flirts with me, tossing her hair over her shoulder and wiggling her tight little ass. It's round and perky and firm. I want to spank it, fuck it…

_God, the things I want to do to this woman._

"You have no idea, baby." I catch up to her and swat her on the ass before picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder. Good thing it's off-season and no one is around to see her bare ass peeking out from under her skirt.

I jog up the two flights of stairs to her apartment as she giggles and squeaks behind my back. Bella doesn't lock her door, much to my dismay. But right now, it makes things much more convenient. I fling her doors open and set her on her feet, before closing the doors behind me.

We're both out of breath, smiling. We stop and stare, googly-eyed kids, carefree. I'm lucky to have moments like these with Bella. I want to tell her I love her. I need her to know that I'm devoted.

"Come here." I reach a hand out to her and she abides, taking my hand and coming in close. I take a deep breath and let it out.

"Bella," I begin with a smile. "I love you." She smiles up at me. "And I want to be with you always." Bella bites her bottom lip, tilts her head to the side. "Tonight is just the start of that."

I kiss the back of her hand, turn it over and kiss her palm. I look up at her through my lashes and see her teeth are digging into her lip so hard it's turning white.

"What?" I stop kissing, but continue to rub her palm with my thumb, watching her shake her head.

"Nothing," she replies. "I just want you. So much. And I love you, too."

I take her face in my hands and kiss her, long and slow. We continue to kiss and touch and laugh, making short work of our clothes and the preparation of the futon. I almost tell her to just leave the fucking boots on, because they look like they'll be a pain in the ass, but she unzips a hidden zipper on the insides of the boots.

"Well, that was easy." I smile, because I'm glad to have her and I both completely bare, nothing between us. We settle into the blankets and pillows, kissing and caressing. After what seems like hours, Bella declares that there has been enough foreplay.

"Take me." She laughs and rolls to her back, arms thrown open and out to her sides.

I'm nervous, but so fucking excited. I grin from ear-to-ear as I move slowly and settle myself between her thighs. I push her hair out of her face and kiss her lips. "As you wish," I reply and touch my forehead to hers.

I push inside her slowly, pull all the way out, and then slide all the way back in, feeling every inch. Every fucking bit of Bella, open, wet, and warm.

"Christ," I breathe. Just like the first time, she is chocolate and cherries, silk and curves. Her husky voice is in my ear, saying my name.

"Do you _feel_ this?" I ask, sounding like an awestruck boy. "Holy fucking-"

"Yes," Bella whispers.

I'm not going to pretend that I never had mind-blowing sex before Bella, but this… Hands down, the most amazing feeling I have ever had in my life.

"I can't get far enough inside," I tell her, and she pulls her legs up, so her knees are bent on either side of my hips. "I don't want to stop." I'm babbling, gripping her hair, her hip. My hands are everywhere, my mind is racing.

"Then don't." Her voice is desperate, she clutches my back.

And then… I come. Too soon, messy and unexpected.

_Fuck._

"I'm sorry, baby," I apologize, nestling her face with my own. I slip my semi-hard cock into her a few more times before she slows my motions, wrapping her legs around my waist.

"Don't apologize," Bella answers, out of breath and shivering. "You feel so good to me right now."

BPOV

Edward is apologizing to me. He's so vulnerable and sweet. Sweeter than I've ever seen him, sweeter than any boy I've ever known. He's being so gentle, so careful. I don't even think Jason was this careful with me the first time I ever had sex.

He's embarrassed for coming before me, which is, I'm sure, a guy thing. But he's still half hard and he made me come in his car 20 minutes ago with one hand on his steering wheel and only two fingers in my-

_Whoa. What is that?_

It is the single most erotic thing I have ever felt. I can feel him growing, getting harder. Inside me.

"Baby," Edward groans into my neck and thrusts once inside. His voice is much more assertive than it was just a minute ago.

He starts to shove pillows off the bed. He rises to kneel between my legs as I unclasp my ankles and my feet fall back to the mattress. His hands push me open at the knees.

"God, that feels amazing." I moan and writhe.

He is divine, thick and hard and bare. This moment feels like that first night all over again, like we're rediscovering each other. I cannot believe I'm thinking this, but he literally feels like velvet stretched over steel right now. Total fucking cliché, but it's no joke.

Edward laughs lightly and pushes slowly, testing the waters.

"I hope you weren't planning to go to sleep any time soon." He moves my knees up to my chest and out to each side as he leans into me, putting the real pressure on. "Because we've got ways to go before we're through here."

I run my hands down his torso, feeling his skin and the tickle of the trail of hair low on his abdomen. This is more than physical. The way he loves me overshadows everything.

"I'm not tired." I smile up at him and slide my hands around his hips, pulling him closer, feeling his body arch as he bumps my g-spot.

"Good," he replies, gliding his hands down my shins to my ankles. He lifts my legs and then pushes my feet toward the headboard, finally crossing my ankles behind my head. Thankfully, I do a lot of yoga.

"Supercock?" I ask, out of breath, my hands traveling back up his torso and around his back, as much as I can reach.

"Supercock." Edward smirks and nods as he kneels and leans forward, keeping my feet in place with one hand.

In and out, slow and steady... Hands holding me…

Ever since the Night of the Superhero Sex, I refer to anything other than missionary sex as "supercock." I'm lucky Edward puts up with my unique brand of humor.

"I love your body, Bella." His other hand, the one not contorting me into the shape of an oyster shell, lightly brushes my mouth. His fingers slip inside and I lick them wet. "I love your mouth." He drags his fingers over my jaw, down my throat. "Your breasts." He pinches one of my nipples lightly, and then pulls a little roughly.

"Your pussy, Bella…" He thrusts hard, changing his angle. "Always so ready for me, so open." Both of his hands grip my ankles now, and he bears down hard. "Fuck... So tight." His voice skitters across my skin. "How are you always so tight?"

My hips rise higher with every forceful push he delivers, and my body warms with every squeeze of his hands around my ankles. I rest two fingers on either side of my clit and listen to his dirty words, feel his driving force holding me down.

My other hand rests on his shoulder and I feel wet tears at the corners of my eyes. I know I'm going to come. I feel the sense of urgency, extreme, thrilling. I have no words.

"Jesusfuck, baby," he groans loudly.

I love hearing him talk dirty, saying "fuck," calling me "baby." I come silently, willingly captive beneath him. But Edward's not as quiet.

"Yes!" He grits through his teeth. The noises he makes always turn me on. Everything he does is hot. And tonight, he sounds a little wild.

He releases my legs and slowly helps me relax flat on my back. He seems reluctant to pull out of my body as he collapses beside me, grasping my hand, kissing my fingers.

"Unfuckingbelievable."

"Yes." I laugh at his exclamation. "I totally agree. Let's do that again. Soon."

"Sounds like a plan." Edward chuckles, then lets go of my hand, sitting and swinging his long legs to the side of the bed. "I'm thirsty. You?"

"Yes," I answer.

Then, I realize I'm a mess. I start to panic about walking from my futon through my tiny kitchen to my bathroom with… _ick_ dripping down my legs.

"I'll bring you a washcloth, too." I sit up and watch Edward briefly vanish through the bathroom door. A second later, he returns to the kitchen and grabs two bottles of Fiji from the fridge. He places the bottles on the desk and kneels on the bed beside me.

"Lie back." His voice is gentle, but unassailable, as always. He hovers above me, kissing my forehead.

I lie back and close my eyes as Edward runs the warm, wet cloth up and down between my legs. He's tender as he cleans me, kissing my hipbones, and telling me he loves me.

"I love you, too," I murmur. So relaxed, so happy.

Edward and I find a new, not wet comforter, above my closet and curl around each other to rest. We laugh and we kiss and we talk about taking Delia and Kita to the park the next day.

"Thank you again," I tell him. "What you did was such a nice surprise. Kita and the card… Everything."

"I just want to make you happy." Edward brushes my hair back, resting his head on his pillow.

"You're everything I could ever want and more," I say as I roll him to his back and straddle his hips. "So far beyond my expectations." I guide him inside me, and fall into a slow and easy pace, up and down.

I remember the toast that Rose and I had about conquering and redefining expectations. This is certainly nothing I ever expected to have.

Edward watches me ride him, his face content, his hands touching me, fingers drawing lazy patterns on my hips, my thighs, my belly. We will spend every day just like this.

As we come together, we are surrounded by bona fide happiness. And I will never question it again.

**End notes: Thanks for joining me!**


	24. Future-takes and extras

**Disclaimer: All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.**

**AN: this is a series of future-takes and extras that were written from prompts, or for fundraisers, or as gifts to my dear fandom friends. **

* * *

**1. Rose and Emmett future-take**

We're stroking and swizzling to Donna Summer at the outdoor ice rink downtown. I love ice skating; it's both exhilarating and elegant. Unfortunately, Emmett's not faring so well. I erroneously assumed that Emmett knew how to ski. He's so athletic—telling me often about his college football career as a defensive end and his senior year, with a career-high 20 sacks.

"You go on ahead, babydoll." Emmett smiles, laughing and gripping the short brick wall for support. "Don't hang back here with my lazy ass."

"I'll just take a few more laps," I tell him. "You can watch," I flirt and flip my hair over my shoulder.

"I will watch." He grins and grabs my hand, pulling it to his lips for a kiss. "And I will love it, because I love you."

I laugh and leave him there, thinking of his constant declarations of love. Emmett told me he loved me on our third date. We went out for a slice, saw District 9, he walked me home, we kissed goodnight, and he told me he loved me on my front porch. I didn't say it back.

Bella and Edward are disgustingly adorable on the other side of the rink. Edward is strong and graceful, and Bella's tiny, lithe figure tucks easily into his side. They flow across the ice, doing nothing extraordinarily complicated, but looking like a couple's routine nonetheless. They're even wearing matching colors. Gag.

The first time I saw Edward Cullen making goo-goo eyes at Bella, I was scared and I ran away with my tail between my legs. Stark contrast to my reaction to Jacob when I thought he was going to hurt Bella.

In retrospect, I realize my reaction to Edward's presence was more about my pride than anything. Edward had never given me cause to believe he would ever hurt a woman the way his fraternity brothers hurt me, but it had been ten years since I'd seen Edward, and his sudden appearance threw me for a loop.

The Morning After, as we sometimes refer to it, she uncharacteristically dropped several F-bombs regarding her evening with Edward Cullen. On the floor, against the wall, in her bed… Wow.

I love Bella like she's my own blood. I would literally kill for that girl. So, yeah, in light of my angst regarding Cullen and his possible intentions, I was a tiny bit freaked at her confession, but I decided to continue to take these moments one at a time. Seeing Edward wasn't the first, nor would it be the last, time I felt panic as a result of my rape.

Before I arrived at Edward's office to threaten his ability to reproduce as well as the likelihood of any future orgasms and wild sex with Bella Swan, I thought he felt sorry for me. I assumed that like every other halfway decent man in my life, Edward looked at me with guilt and shame.

There was guilt in Edward's eyes that day, but not like he was looking at a sideshow freak. He told me he felt guilty for not being my white knight. From what I remember of Edward and what Bella has told me, that fucker was so used to saving the damsels in his life that he felt responsible or something. I was at once annoyed as shit and kind of charmed.

Seven months later, Bella and Edward are stronger and kinkier than ever. That dirty hooker is buying an Anal Sex 101 kit for him for Valentine's Day. A kit. I cannot help but roll my eyes every time she tells me about their little escapades.

First of all, anal sex—that's all I'm going to say about that. Second, Valentine's Day is a month away. I haven't thought that far ahead, but I'm sure Emmett and I will just have a quiet dinner or something.

No matter what we do together, it's right. Being with Emmett makes me think of that old Foo Fighters song, Everlong. There's a line in the song that says, "come down and waste away with me." I never placed any significance in the comfort of that simple line until I knew Emmett the way I know him now.

"WOOH!" Peter hollers, pulling me from my reverie. "I see London! I see France! I see Emmy's underpants!"

I spin on my skates to see Emmett bent at the waist, his pants split down the back.

"Oh, my God!" I skate across the outdoor rink to where Peter, Garrett, and Eric are laughing maniacally at poor Emmett's expense.

"Don't worry, Rosie." Emmett grins and grunts as his blades slip and slide underneath him. "Goddesses need not worry about such trifling things."

"Help him up." I smack Peter in the arm as I carve to a stop.

Emmett takes everything in stride. He has such a gentle and attentive nature—he'd make the perfect boyfriend, husband… or father. He's always smooth and smiling, diffusing any kind of alarm that may have been caused. And he does his damn well best to remind me that I am revered.

_"Good evening, my beautiful queen!" Emmett greeted me at his front door after my yoga class. His arms were open wide, and he looked like Superman—all broad shoulders, dark curls over his forehead, dimples, and blindingly white smile. He kissed me soundly and took my bag and the bottle of Prosecco I had picked up at Grape and Grain earlier in the day._

_Emmett bought a loft just three blocks from my condo in downtown Forks. Edward was so fucking happy to be rid of him, and Bella openly expressed great joy that she and Cullen could get freaky in the dining room whenever they wanted—all they had to do was ask Heidi to take Delia to a movie or something._

_Evidently, the court and Tanya had agreed that she needed just a bit more time to herself and her recovery, so Delia and Heidi moved to Forks to live with Edward full-time._

_"Get comfy, babe." Emmett tossed my overnight bag into his sleeping quarters as we moved through the loft to his kitchen area in the center of the place. He set the bubbly on the kitchen island, grabbed two flutes from the set of stemware Esme Cullen bought for him as a housewarming gift, and proceeded to unwrap and uncork the bottle._

_"How is my lovely lady this fine New Year's Eve?" Emmett quirked a brow and grinned lopsidedly as he filled our glasses with Italian sparkling wine._

_"I feel good." I smiled and nodded. "Relaxed and ready to ring in the New Year with my man."_

_Emmett slid my flute in front of me and raised his glass in a toast._

_"To the New Year," he said, and we touched crystal to crystal before taking our first sips._

Peter and I each grab one of Emmett's arms to help him to his feet, and Emmett's fingers brush my neck. He's laughing. He fell on his ass and split his pants in front of 900 cackling gay men. And yet he is completely unaffected.

"Oh, Emmy," Peter coos. "You are just so precious." Peter laughs and mock-pats Emmett on the back. Emmett wobbles unsteadily and takes a deep breath, puffing his chest. His cheeks are flushed and his dimples are in full force.

His smile is warm and his eyes are blue and blazing.

_We would have the prettiest babies_, I think. I bite my tongue before I accidentally say it out loud. He's said he loves me, but I need to be patient. Wait for just the right moment.

_"Now..." Emmett set his glass to the side, then pulled a bowl of grated cheese across the counter toward a pot of steaming beer. He had set the island with coarsely chopped Granny Smith apples (my favorite), cubes of cranberry and cinnamon bread, and veggie crudités. "Sit back and watch the Cheese Master do his craft."_

_"Well, there's no question how well you can do cheese." I winked and popped a piece of green apple into my mouth, chewing, before sipping the tangy, fizzy wine._

_"Oh, doll…" Emmett rapidly stirred the sauce with two dinner forks. "You are not going to believe how delicious this is going be." I watched him froth the sauce and it smelled fucking amazing. "And it's not just cheese. I have horsey sauce, too!"_

_I giggled in a way that even my best friends would never hear as Emmett settled the cheese sauce over an open flame and turned to the refrigerator to retrieve two trays covered in plastic wrap._

_"I have lemon butter, curry, barbeque, and cocktail sauce." Emmett nodded to the trays in his hands, indicating an array of dipping sauces and meats. "Lobster, filet, chicken, shrimp… Edward's not the only sensitive cooking dude in the family."_

_Emmett winked and set the plates on the island._

_Emmett referred to himself as the Cheese Master about eight more times before we finished eating the cheese-dipped bits of bread, fruit, and veggies. He then proceeded to emphasize the timing of cooking each kind of meat in the prepared pot of wine and broth._

_"Most importantly, do not take the chicken out before three minutes." He eyed me seriously. "I have no interest in giving you salmonella." He grinned and those fucking dimples had a life of their own._

_My favorite dipping sauce was the curry. I liked it on chicken, shrimp, and especially the lobster. I did not love the salmon, but you can't win 'em all._

_Emmett and I dumped the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and then stretched out in front of the fire with a light cotton throw and tons of pillows._

_"Thanks for being my boyfriend," I whispered, sounding like a middle schooler and not giving a shit at all, as I nuzzled into his forearm._

_"Well, you smell good," Emmett mumbled, shrugging and curling tightly around my back. He kissed my hair and I heard him inhale, his breath warm on my neck. "I can't help myself."_

_"You must like hippychicks," I teased and squirmed against him. "I didn't wash my hair after yoga."_

_"It's got nothing to do with hippies or showers, Rosie." He dipped his head and ran his nose around the shell of my ear. "It's just you."_

_Emmett's hands are big, meaty. His skin is smooth, though. You might look at Emmett and think he must have calloused, rough hands, hands of a workingman._

_But, no, I was amazed as always to have his soft, warm hand lightly palm my hip, fingers stroking my skin just under the hem of my t-shirt. I wanted both hands on me._

_"Mmm," I moaned, rolling away from him long enough to resituate myself to face him. "Keep going."_

_Emmett's eyes sparkled in the firelight. His fingers skimmed the hem of my t-shirt again. I was wearing my favorite Ben Harper t-shirt that I'd bought a few years back at Jazz Forks/Snowmass's June festival and an old pair of sweat pants. So comfy._

_He grinned brighter and bit his bottom lip. He kissed my mouth, and his fingers encircled my waist, twisting in the fabric of my shirt and pants. My arms wrapped around his neck, and I sighed as his lips traveled across my jaw and down my neck._

"Come on, Pete." Garrett grabs Peter by the arm and pulls him toward the refreshment stand. "Let's go find something warm and alcoholic to drink and leave the love birds alone."

"Rose, darling." Eric sidles up to Emmett and I, straightening Emmett's jacket and smoothing his hair over his ears. "Maybe you should take Superman here back to your place. He looks like he's ready to call it a night."

"Eric, baby," Emmett smirks and his eyes light with mischief. "Don't act like you're trying to get rid of me. I know you love me, man." Eric rolls his eyes, but I know he has a soft spot for Emmett. "I mean, my heart belongs to Rosie here. I love this woman. But, you…" Emmett wags a playful finger at Eric. "If I was into dudes, I would totally ask you out for pizza."

Eric laughs loudly and rolls his eyes. He kisses me goodbye and skates backward, winking, before spinning and joining the rest of the Mafia, leaving Emmett and I alone.

I loved these times with just the two of us. Whether we were exchanging childhood stories or making out like teenagers, I loved being alone with Emmett.

_His knee slowly slid up between my legs, gently nudging my apex. His mouth closed over my cotton covered nipple, warm and intent on pleasing me._

_"Em?" I breathed in and out. "I want to be naked with you."_

_"You must've read my mind." Emmett chuckled, wasting no time removing my t-shirt. "Being naked with you is one of my very favorite things in the whole world."_

_He pulled the drawstring on my sweatpants and slid the heavy cotton down my legs._

_"As a matter of fact, you should just never wear clothes at all."_

_I laughed and helped him pull his t-shirt over his head, then ran my hands down his bare chest, grinning. Emmett is a fantastic specimen, as Peter would say. Well muscled, smooth. But I knew in my heart that he could look like Principal Snyder and I'd blush and shiver at the sight of him. Well, maybe not Principal Snyder. He was a creepy little troll._

_I popped the button on Emmett's jeans. His skin was so warm. My fingers ventured into the denim and his zipper glided down with the motion of my hand. He was hard under his boxer-briefs. The fabric was stretched tight and I couldn't resist the urge to grab._

_"Babe," he whispered and pulled one of my earlobes between his lips. I could feel his smile against my jaw as he nibbled my ear._

_My other hand found its way to the back of his hair. I tugged his curls lightly and Emmett laughed, rolling to his back. I was suddenly straddling him, bare against his denim and cotton, because I never wear panties with my sweats. His hands wrapped around the tops of my thighs as he hitched my legs firmly around his hips._

_"I am at your mercy, m'lady." He released my thighs and threw his arms wide. "Do with me what you will."_

_I released his hair and pulled my hand from inside his pants, giggling. Again._

_Always with the giggling when it's just the two of us. I sat up straight and scooted back, tugging his jeans and boxer-briefs down his legs. Slipping further back, finally settling myself between his knees, I kicked his pants behind me._

_I smirked and leaned forward, lowering my head to kiss his stomach and the musculature formation that looks like a "v". My eyes briefly flicked to his gaze. He settled his hands under his head and watched me with an amused expression as I slid his cock into my mouth._

"Are you ready to go?" I ask Emmett. "I'll buy you a beer at Bentley's. I'm over the skating anyway."

"You don't have to buy me a beer." Emmett straightens his posture. "I think I just need to get out of these skates. I don't want you to quit because I'm not so agile on the ice, ya know?"

"What you lack on the ice, you make up for in other areas." I lick my lips and grin, crossing my heart so he knows that I'm being honest. "I'm done. I promise."

We make our way to the edge of the ice and Emmett hurls himself toward the bench seating, plopping down with a loud sigh of relief. He bends over and unties his skates, pushing one off his foot.

"What's everybody else doing?" he asks, looking around for Bella, Edward, and the bois.

I don't really care what everybody else is doing. I don't need anybody else but him.

"Well, it looks like Bedward's headed out to do what they do best." I nod toward Bella and Edward who have also left the ice and are now turning in their skate rentals. Edward seriously has his hand on Bella's ass. And not just a little pat. He looks like he's trying to decipher a secret message from the stitching on the back pocket of her jeans.

"Those two are always making the Ninja getaway." Emmett smirks and yanks his other skate from his foot. "Crafty, horny bastards."

_In the periphery, I could see Emmett's chest expand, and I heard him inhale deeply. I swirled my tongue around his cock and felt him grow even harder. I used my hands and fingers to stroke the sensitive spots where my tongue couldn't reach all at once. I took him all the way inside and down my throat. He was warm, salty, and so, so smooth._

_"Come up here, babe." Emmett entwined his fingers with mine and pulled gently._

_His voice was just above a whisper, strained and sweet. "Lay with me."_

_I stroked him once more and kept a firm grasp, sliding up his body. Emmett and I lay on our sides, face to face. He slipped my black camisole up my body and over my head, then tossed the top over his shoulder. He spun us, so I was on my back, naked underneath him._

_"I love you, Rosalie," Emmett murmured. He propped himself up on his elbows and my face was in his careful hands. I brought my knees up, cradling his hips in the juncture of my thighs._

_"I want to make love to you," he muttered, nuzzling my chin. I closed my eyes and reveled in the feel of him against me._

_He shifted slightly, and his fingers trailed from my face down my torso and between our bodies. He slipped a finger inside me and massaged my clit with his thumb. I was already wet, ready for all of his "intents and purposes." But he loved to take his time._

_Emmett balanced on one elbow and brought his wet hand to his lips. He grinned, took his fingers in his mouth, and licked them clean before gently kissing my bottom lip._

_"Condom?" I asked, running my hands up and down his sides._

_Emmett reached for his discarded jeans and dug into one of the pockets. He retrieved a foil packet and rose to his knees. I remained on my back, propped up on my elbows, watching as he rolled the condom down his length, smiling, muscles flexing in his forearms and shoulders._

_Once he completed the task of encasing his ever-enticing appendage in latex, he settled back on his haunches between my open legs. He lightly grasped my knees, tickling me and urging me toward him. I scrambled to a kneeling position then hoisted myself up to straddle his thighs._

_"Nice and slow," Emmett breathed as every inch of our bodies fully connected. I guided him inside me and settled into a slow and steady rhythm._

_I worked us into a low boil. Emmett's hands were in my hair and our tongues were dancing slowly. I rode him increasingly harder._

_"Fuck me," Emmett whispered through his kisses. He licked my bottom lip and groaned._

_Emmett is the only man I have ever been able to make love to and fuck at the same moment. As a matter of fact, he's the only man I've ever been able to make love to at all._

_I gripped his shoulders and squeezed my thighs. His hands rested firmly on my hips. My back arched and I pushed my breasts into his face. He gently pulled a nipple between his lips, and I exploded._

"Fuck," Emmett rotates his ankles one at a time, shaking his head and laughing. "Who'da thunk ice skating could be such a humbling experience."

The first time I saw Emmett after his arrival in Forks, it was similar to the night I saw Edward with Bella. I panicked, just slightly, inside my head when Bella invited me to lunch. But I bolstered my courage, braving my past. I expected to deal with Emmett's pity, that look of guilt or shame.

Emmett stood up when Bella and I approached the table. He smiled, broad and welcoming. No pretense, no sympathy, just an invitation to engage. Since that moment, I've been hooked. There stood a guy who knew me, knew my demons and my ugly past, and didn't appear to judge me in any way. He wanted to know me better.

Of course, I spoke with Laurie about my feelings for Emmett. As pleased and relieved as I was that he hadn't treated me like a broken doll or some other object to be coveted or mended, I was cautious. It was ingrained in me, a defense mechanism, but I wanted to try to be with him.

Emmett reaches under the bench and grabs his boots. His eyes light with concern as they meet mine. Judging by the look on his face, I must be acting strangely. I certainly feel a little strange.

"Babe?" Emmett drops his boots and takes my hands in his, scooting closer to me. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah." I smile reassuringly and squeeze his hands. He's so good to me. And I love him.

"Hey, guys!" Bella shouts from the rental booth. "We're headed over to my place for a little downtime."

Emmett and I briefly turn our attention to Bella and Edward. Edward is halfway onto the sidewalk and pointed in the direction of Bella's studio, dragging her with him and waving goodbye to us impatiently.

"Give us a call if you want to-" Bella scoffs and yanks her hand away from Edward. "Edward, chill the fuck out. I'm saying goodbye to your cousin." She sighs, rolls her eyes, and it looks like she's trying to be all badass and firm, like some kind of school marm, scolding him. I swear to God he stomps and whines. I don't even want to know if this tantrum is part of their evening's foreplay.

"Anyway." Bella turns back to us. "Give us a call if you wanna hook up later, cool?"

"Sure." I smile and wave. "We'll call you."

Edward practically throws Bella over his shoulder to run to her apartment and do God knows what. I turn my attention back to Emmett who's pulled his boots on and is eyeing me patiently with no expectations of anything.

"Ready, babe?" His hands rest lightly on his knees and he tilts his head. Always so patient with me. Loving me. Giving me space, but supporting me at the same time. Perfect for me in every way.

"I love you," I whisper, blinking, and then I look right into his eyes. "So much, Em."

I'd seen Emmett smile. He smiles most every second of everyday. But the smile on his face in this moment is priceless. Had I known those three little words could garner these results, I… Oh, never mind. I couldn't say it before now.

"I love you, too." He pulls me into his arms. He hugs me, releases me, and then he grasps my face in his hands and kisses my lips. "So, so much." He kisses me again, and again.

"I'm still wearing my skates," I mumble, and I realize that I'm crying. Not sobbing, but I feel hot tears on the cold skin of my cheeks. "I want to take my skates off." I rest my head on his shoulder and breathe into his neck. "And then I want you to take me back to your place and make love to me."

Emmett's hands sink one into my hair and one around my waist.

"Sounds good to me," he replies.

After we return our rental skates, Emmett and I leave the rink. We walk three blocks, hand in hand, to Emmett's loft. I tell him I love him again while he undresses me. I say it again while he's going down on me, and again when he enters me. By the time we drift off to sleep, I've told him I love him as many times as I've ever thought I wanted to tell him. It's not as hard as I thought it would be. Of course, this is Emmett. He makes everything easier, more fulfilling, and full of possibilities.

* * *

**2. Edward, Bella, and the Amazing Anal Vibe**

**AN: I think this was for a Smut Monday prompt thing at Twilight a few years ago.**

Rose made fun of me when I said I wanted to buy Edward an anal sex kit for Valentine's Day.

"Is it one of those boxes with a picture of Kobe Tai on the front?" Rose laughed one bitterly cold December afternoon while we were running on the Rio Grande Trail. "Is it purple with those big bubbly letters outlined in gold glitter? Anal Sex 101! WOOT!"

Bitch.

So I did more research—weeks worth of it. I googled, wikied, and then made phone calls to sex shops in Port Angeles. I learned that we would need to experiment, not that there's anything wrong with that. I learned that we would need to play with toys, which I was so looking forward to (because Edward turned me into a big, horny slut.) And I learned that we would need lube. Lots of it.

Googling anal lube is something I never thought would garner such vast results. Who knew there were so many different brands and consistencies? Thicker, water-based lube is best for anal sex, apparently. And nonporous, easy-to-clean silicone is the best material for butt plugs, vibrators, or dildos; a flared base will prevent, uh, slippage.

I made lots of notes. I decided to order basically one of everything. I mean why the hell not, right? Surely we'll get to it sooner or later. I wanted to be prepared in the event that Edward might want me to "stimulate his prostate" like all the materials I saw recommended. On the final day of my information-gathering phase, I decided to call in the big guns.

"Honey, two or three plugs and a vibe and you're good." Peter types with purpose on my little MacBook. "You're just starting out, right?" His fingers hover above my keyboard and he eyes me over the top of his reading glasses.

"Well," I squirm in my seat next to him at his kitchen table. "I mean, he's touched me there." I shrug and feel so naïve compared to when I strode confidently through the door with my meticulously researched shopping list of anal pleasures.

Peter slumps to the side and looks at me like I'm on glue. Or totally clueless. Or maybe I'm just paranoid.

"Kitten," Peter sighs and whips his glasses off, twirling them in one hand. "You two have got your whole life ahead of you." He tosses his hands in the air. "There's no need to rush or overwhelm each other. I mean, every man should get fucked in the ass at least once before he dies, but I doubt Mr. Cullen is ready for the strap on."

Peter points to my neatly printed list of items.

He turns to face my laptop once again and pushes his glasses back into place. I feel like a tool, watching Peter continue to abuse my keyboard with his big, stupid, butt sex-knowing fingers.

"Okay, here's what you're going to do." He scrolls and clicks and fills my virtual basket with goodies. "You're going to give him this book." Peter turns the screen to show me a picture of a book called The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women.

"How do you know about this book?" I sulk and motion to the screen. "You're a dude."

"Please tell me you don't honestly believe you're the first hag who's come to me for anal advice." Peter gives me that look again. "You came here for a reason, darlin'. I am here to help, so stop feeling inadequate." He returns to complete the task at hand. "Remember last year when I had that hair-brained scheme to start a singer-songwriter festival?"

I roll my eyes and make a face. Peter thought the city would just hand over fifty grand to him to bring a bunch of no-name pretty boys with acoustic guitars to Forks and call it a festival. Luckily, he listened to my reasoning before taking it before the grants committee.

"Exactly," Peter acknowledges my look of distaste and batters more of my precious keys to print a receipt. I finally get to see all that he's ordered for my boyfriend's Valentine's Day present.

The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women

Three plugs in graduated sizes, light pink

Silicone anal vibrator

ForPlay Toy Cleaner

Maximus lubricant

"Wrap the book separately," Peter instructs, looking very pleased with himself as he closes my laptop. "Then put the toys and accessories in a gift bag or a box." He slides my computer across the table toward me. "It'll be the sweetest gift ever!"

* * *

"The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women." Edward reads aloud, looks at me, and blinks.

There is a brief moment of silence wherein I consider laughing hysterically and telling him the book is a gag gift for Rosalie, which I wrongly handed to him as his Valentine's present. But then I recognize the look on his face. He's turned on.

"Anal sex?" he asks, his eyes locked with mine. I chew my upper lip and consider my answer.

"Well, I've really enjoyed it when you've touched me… down there." I swallow the excess spit that's building up in my mouth before continuing. "And I thought it would be something we could try together." I shrug.

Edward's eyes soften. He tilts his head, reaches out for my hand, and pulls me toward him, pushing the book and the wrapping paper from his lap. I settle sideways across his thighs, my feet dangling. I can feel his erection against the side of my hip.

He wraps an arm around my waist and settles his other hand in my lap, twisting our fingers together.

He takes a deep breath, preparing to have one of our notorious relationship changing conversations, like the condom conversation and our debate over my use of Xanax. I stare down into my lap at our hands and listen to his voice calm and soothe me.

"I love sex with you Bella," Edward starts. "It's real, satisfying, and intimate. I love you and you love me." He pauses and I nod in agreement.

"You and I have tried some things that we liked and some that we haven't." I nod again, thinking about the handcuffs perpetually clamped to my headboard for easy access and the time Edward sucked on my toes for almost three full minutes before I finally burst into giggles at the non-sexy silliness of it all.

"And trust me when I say, fucking your ass is definitely in the Top 5 things I wanna do to you."

Oh, Edward. You never mince words when we talk about sex.

I laugh quietly, and predictably, his words make me squirm in his lap. I feel damp between my thighs. His hand on my waist squeezes lightly and his other hand releases my fingers to draw patterns on the bare skin between the black leathers of my boots and my skirt.

I turn my eyes to the side and up to look him in the face. He's smiling at me. I love him in his plain white Henley and black jeans. He looks like James Dean with boots and a leather jacket.

"Thank you for the book." He doesn't whisper, but his voice sounds as soft as if he had. He leans forward to kiss my lips. We nibble, lick, and make small cooing sounds for a few minutes. Then I remember the rest of his gift.

"Oh!" I jerk upright and Edward looks dazed. "I have more! For your present." I wiggle out of his embrace and reach for the little gift bag containing other surprises.

I turn and settle on my shins beside him on my red couch, handing him his gift bag. Judging by his expression, Edward is slightly amused. He pulls wispy pieces of white tissue paper from the bag and I watch them float to the floor. He removes the first bundle and rips the loosely wrapped paper to reveal the little pink vibrator.

Edward laughs deeply, conspiratorially, shaking his head. His eyes flick to mine, he drops the vibe to the cushions of the couch, and grips my wrist lightly. He pulls me toward him again and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. "Baby, this is going to be so much fun." He kisses me gently and continues to chuckle.

"There's more in the bag," I mumbled around his lips. "Open it."

Edward sighs and releases me. He's been wound up since he picked me up for dinner an hour and a half ago. When I answered the door, he looked me up and down, licked his lips, and told me he wasn't hungry for anything they serve at L'Hostaria. I wore this outfit because he loves me in leather and silk, and he bought these thigh-high boots for me for Christmas. They just aren't practical in Forks, so I haven't worn them yet.

"Have you done it before?" I ask, as I watch him pull another gift from his bag. "Anal, I mean."

"Yeah," he answers quietly, eyeing me sideways as he unwraps the lube from its tissue thin packaging. "A few times, but I'm no expert."

He smirks at the bottle of Maximus then his eyes meet mine once again as he sets the little bottle on the leather ottoman. He takes my hand in his and pulls it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles one by one. He's always a gentleman, making me melt, turning me to goo.

"Come back here, baby." Edward encourages me to straddle him with a nod, a pat to his thigh, and a light tug at my wrist.

I feel crazy right now—horny and jealous at the same time. I really wanted this experience to be unique for both of us.

"Bella, listen to me," Edward says as I settle into the comfortable, familiar position of him hard and hot against my silk-covered crotch. "Nothing else matters." His face is so perfectly shaped, his eyes are so sweet. "I get that you're curious and I'll tell you anything you want, but don't let past experiences change how good this can be for us."

How does he just fucking get me like this? How did he know?

I nod and feel his hands slide under my skirt and grip my hips. His fingers splayover my backside, curling around my cheeks through the silk; the promise of what's to come. I grind down over him a little bit because I want to hear that groan-y sound he makes when I do. I know I'm the only one who has that affect on him. At least I am right now.

"So can I ask questions?" I settle my hands on the leather covering his shoulders and I get the front of his jeans wet. His cock is nudging me right where I need it and I'm greedy. "If I ask, you'll answer?"

"Ask me anything." One of Edward's hands leaves my skirt and reaches up behind my neck to unfasten the closure of the cowl neck halter I'm wearing. I'm not wearing a bra, since the top has a hidden one, and Edward fucking digs the shit out of it when he knows I'm going braless. So when the red silk falls down my front between our bodies, he groans and grips my thigh tightly with his other hand.

"I'll tell you anything you want if you just let me touch these for a little while." The hand that started to remove my top abandoned its task before unzipping the side, leaving just my chest exposed. He cradles one breast in his hand and pinches a nipple.

"Have you ever… received?" I pant out my question as Edward dips his head and closes his mouth over my other nipple. He slides one hand back up into my hair and pulls my head back. Then he brings the skirt-bound hand around the front of my hips to invade the wet silk.

"Yes," Edward answers without hesitation. His confidence has me wishing he were inside me right the fuck now.

He continues to lick and suck my nipples as he works a finger inside me. His thumb takes up its time-honored tradition of servicing my clit as he begins to tell me about the first time he felt the pleasure of anal stimulation as a receiver.

"I was at the bar where my band played in college and met a girl named Nicole."

Edward breathes heavy as I pull my nipple from his mouth long enough to yank open the fly of his jeans. If he's going to get me off while he tells me about some girl sticking her finger in his ass, I'm going to have his cock in my hand while he does it.

"She was a roommate of one of the bartenders." I reach behind me and grab the lube from the ottoman, thinking it'll make this whole hand job situation kind of snappy.

"We flirted, did some shots, I dedicated a song to her." I dump a bunch of lube in the palm of my hand and wrap my fingers around his hard cock. Edward gets that far away look on his face like he's remembering. His jaw is slack and his eyes are hooded. But I'm the one jacking him off, not Nicole. "She was so sweet."

I use both hands, slippery and slick, one hand running up and down his cock with the time his finger has set inside me, and one hand cupping, squeezing, and rubbing his balls. His thumb rotates around and around on my clit and I rise up to my knees, thinking I'm giving him better access, but it's probably more about me not being able to sit still.

Edward pulls my head down to his face and presses harder on my clit. "God, I love you," he whispers into my mouth as he kisses me with so much force. "I can't wait to fuck you."

He stops pulling my hair and fingering me long enough to move me from his lap and remove my useless, messy underwear. Once I'm free, he invites me back to his lap.

"Come on," Edward says. I straddle him once again and he wastes no time getting inside me. I'm still torn between feeling jealous of sweet Nicole and being totally fucking turned on by his reaction to all of these new developments.

"Tell me more," I breathe.

I gasp at the sudden roughness of his hands under my skirt. He has a tight grip on my hips and he's working me up and down. His thumbs graze the front of my pelvis until he rests them on either side of my pussy. The momentum of our fucking creates the most awesome friction between his thumbs and my clit.

"I went home with them," he continues to paint a picture for me, while kissing my lips and ears and throat. His voice is strained like he's ready to pop. I hope he doesn't come right now. I want this to last and I want to hear the rest of this story.

"Nicole gave me a hand job and Will—fuck… Are you getting off on this?" Edward returns a hand to the back of my head and leans back to gaze into my eyes. "I don't think you've ever been this wet this fast."

I am getting off on it, I've decided. Fuck being jealous. What he's telling me happened years ago. It's hot as hell, but he's not reminiscing. He's sharing it with me.

"Yeah, it's…" I shake my head and close my eyes. I'm right fucking there. "Edward, I want you on top of me."

He doesn't make me beg. I'm on my back on the floor before I can say, "fuck me hard."

Edward is kneeling between my open thighs, pants bunched at his knees. He's still wearing his clothes. I don't know why, but I love fucking with our clothes on.

He has one of my leather clad knees in each of his hands. He pushes my legs up to my chest and opens me further. My arms lie limply on the rug and I can feel my hair a mess around my head.

"Just think about what I'm gonna do to you." His hands grip tighter around my knees, bruising and loving. "You can have me anyway you want. Anywhere." He groans and I whimper at the thought. "I'll do anything you want to make you come, make you feel good."

He strokes in and out of me and my hands tangle in my hair.

The second Edward tells me to think about what he's going to do to me, images of him licking me with his tongue and sliding that vibe into my ass, bending me over the bench in his steam shower to fuck me, cuffing my hands to my headboard as I sit down and down and down on his cock over and over—I explode.

Edward doesn't come right away. He releases my knees, and I hook my booted feet around his long, lean body pulling him into me. I hear leather squeak and groan against leather. He rests his hands on the floor on either side of my head as he fucks me, and we kiss until he comes inside me.

"Fuck we're good at this." Edward touches our sweaty foreheads together, pulls out of me, and settles on his side next to me. It's become kind of a joke between us.

Even when we try to have quick, functional sex, we always end up making it some kind of epic experience. I won't delude myself to think it will always be this way, but I sure will enjoy it while it lasts.

We got our dessert to go and we have a delish bottle of Zin that Esme sent us to share for Valentine's Day. I swear to God, I love that woman. She and my mother are nothing alike, but together they make the perfect mom.

"I want chocolate," I say as I roll up to the sitting position and pray that my silk halter hasn't been too badly mangled by Edward's and my hormones. I unzip it at the side to remove it completely, toss it toward my closet area to later be cleaned, and crawl across the floor to my chest of drawers.

"Mmm," Edward hums and rolls to his stomach, grabbing for my ankle. "Come back here, I want to use that vibrator on you."

I kick playfully at his grasp and try to shimmy my skirt down, stifling the sexathon long enough get out of these boots, put on something comfy, and eat my dark chocolate cake with ganache.

"Those boots are the best fucking investment I have ever made," Edward declares as I stand and look over my shoulder to see him resting on his stomach with his head propped in his hands. "Take your skirt off, but leave the boots on for dessert."

"You have a shoe fetish," I accuse, rifling through my chest of drawers for a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top. "My red pumps, my silver docs, these boots." I find what I'm looking for and turn to face him, unzipping and slipping out of my skirt.

"Seriously. It's all about the footwear for you, isn't it?"

He groans and rolls to his back. His pants are still trapping his knees and I can see now that he's not entirely erect, but he's less than flaccid. He's thirty-five fucking years old. He's not supposed to have this kind of refractory period.

He lifts his hips and pulls his jeans up, barely fastening them. He's acting all grouchy, like his girlfriend didn't just tell him she'd let him fuck her in the ass. I pull my black cotton boxers over the boots and my tank top over my head, seeing him stand in my peripheral vision. I cross the room to sit on the couch and remove the boots, but Edward stops me mid-stride.

"You really have no idea the affect you have on me, do you?"

His intense and very serious expression gives me pause.

"I love you, too." I place my hand on his and squeeze. I do love him. More than I can even explain. And a lot of times it makes me feel irrational and crazy because our extreme reactions to each other are completely illogical.

"No." He shakes his head and shoves the fingers of his free hand into his hair. "I mean I love you, but I'm just so crazy about you." He laughs once, nervous and unsure, and then looks at me in wonder.

"Yeah," I whisper. The spark hasn't faded between us in these seven and a half months. It's only become stronger. "You kinda take my breath away, too."

Cheese! Oh, man. I hope I'm not being Punk'd.

Edward's face splits into the most beautiful smiling thing, and he pulls me into his warm embrace. He rocks me side to side and hums.

"I can leave them on," I mutter into his chest and run my hands over the cotton of his shirt under his leather jacket.

"Nah," he laughs. "We'll do it again some other time." He takes my face in his hands and kisses my forehead. "But I wasn't kidding about the vibrator." He grins down at me before turning toward the kitchen where our dessert sits waiting to be consumed.

"I have no problem with that," I admit as I sit on the couch to pull my boots off and toss them next to my closet. I reach for my flip-flops and watch Edward remove his jacket, hanging it over the back of one of the pub chairs. "Open that wine, will you?"

Edward nods and mumbles, "yes'm".

I shuffle past him into the bathroom to pee and tie my hair up. When I come out, Edward has set the table with a few tea lights, two glasses of Zin, and Tiziano's Chocolate Ganache cake.

"He was ogling you, Bella. He always does," Edward argued five minutes into our dessert and wine. "And stop calling him that, it wigs me out."

Tiziano is the pastry chef at L'Hostaria. He's had a thing for me since I moved here, he's 100% pure Italian – libido and all – he makes the most amazing chocolate desserts, and his nickname is Tiz, which is pronounced "tits."

"Edward," I roll my eyes at his jealous words and the utter deliciousness that is Tiziano's Valentine's Day special. "He's like, three feet tall. Plus, he isn't you, so my love for his ability to make desserts to rival all desserts is a moot point."

Edward looks thoughtful as he savors the irrefutably perfect ganache. He sips his wine then takes a deep breath.

"Fine," he concedes and pushes his empty plate to the middle of the table. "Come on. I wanna play with my new toys." He smirks as he stands and extends a hand to me, inviting me to join him.

I scrape the last little bit of chocolate heaven from my plate and lick my fork clean, moaning and batting my eyelashes at Edward.

"Bella," Edward warns and straightens his posture. His eyes are hot and he places both hands on the back of his abandoned pub chair.

"Okay." I roll my eyes again and hop down from my chair. "I'm kidding. You know that."

I pass him and make my way to my futon to unfold it. Edward pushes the ottoman out of the way and removes the bedding from inside. Together, we fluff the comforter and the pillows. When we make eye contact, Edward is smiling like the devil he is.

"You might as well take your clothes off, Bella." He pulls his Henley over his head and then grins at me. "They're just gonna get in the way." He sits to untie his boots and kick them over to my chest of drawers. He pulls his socks off and stands, unfastening his pants as he walks to the couch to retrieve the vibrator and pick the lube up off the floor.

"Did you put batteries in this and everything?" He turns it on and the room fills with an invigorating buzz. Angel pops his head up from his little kitty puff bed in the window, squeaks, blinks, and then buries his head back in the puff to ignore us.

"Inspected, cleaned, and loaded," I confirm.

As I watched him prepare for Step One of our Anal Excursion, I got rid of my shorts and tank and climbed under the covers. Now he's walking toward the bed, shirtless and barefoot with his pants open, staring in fascination at the buzzing contraption in one hand, and twirling the bottle of Maximus with the long fingers of his other hand.

"You might as well take your pants off Edward," I paraphrase his earlier words.

"Smart mouth," Edward mutters. He doesn't even look at me as he tosses the lube to the mattress and finishes pushing his jeans down. He turns the toy off, but doesn't let it go as he flops down beside me on the bed.

"Let's see," Edward wonders aloud, pulling the covers away from my body down to my hips. He's lying on his stomach next to me on top of the comforter. He taps my bottom lip with the vibe and then traces my mouth with its tip. "Open up."

I open my mouth and he slips the silicone inside. It tastes like, well, silicone – fake and sterile – but it's worth it to watch Edward's face change as I suck the phallic looking toy into my mouth.

"Get it nice and wet, Bella," he instructs. He kisses my shoulder, never taking his eyes off the thing invading my mouth. I close my eyes and moan, just for him. "Good girl."

I don't like the taste, but I love the connection this little piece of silicone gives us.

Edward is incredibly turned on, and as I start to think about what we're going to do and what we talked about earlier, I'm getting pretty fucking ramped up.

Edward removes the wet vibrator from my mouth and lightly draws it over my chin, my collarbones, and a nipple. He flips the switch and my fingers clench the sheets.

"So I was saying," Edward speaks casually, teasing me. "Nicole, the girl I had a threesome with in college? Was giving me a hand job and Will- are you comfortable, Bella?"

I'm squirming in the sheets, clutching the cotton in my fists, and rubbing my thighs together. Edward is making tiny circles around my areola with the fucking vibrator and he won't fucking finish the goddamned story.

"Yes!" I snap. "I'm fine, just fucking… tell me already."

Edward chuckles and kisses my other nipple, trailing the vibe down my torso.

"Well, Will just thought I needed a little help." He pulls my nipple into his mouth and slides the vibrating silicone cock between my pussy lips. "So he started massaging me. I felt lube on his fingers. Nicole was using it, too." Edward slips the toy inside me and I pull my right knee up and open wide.

"Fuck," I breathe. I reach my hand up and pull Edward's hair, kiss him on the lips, and I think I might be purring.

"He slipped his finger inside me," Edward whispers, fucking me with the vibrator and thumbing my clit. "And I just fucking came in Nicole's hands." He breathes heavy and hard.

"Do it," I beg and whimper. "Do it, please, Edward."

Edward pulls the toy from my body, switches it off, and sets it next to my head. He opens the little magic bottle of lube and coats his fingers, then walks on his knees to settle between my open legs.

"Spread your legs a little wider, baby." Edward reaches down with his left hand and slides his thumb in where the vibrator just left as he uses two fingers to spread the lube between my cheeks. Then, very slowly, he slips one finger into my back opening.

I don't really know what to do with my legs or my hands or anything at all. I kind of just loll around for a few seconds until Edward tells me to relax and think about the story he just told me.

"I promise I'll be good, Bella." His finger strokes inside me, and I feel tight and try to relax a little more. "I promise you'll like it so much."

I stop flopping around like a fish and feel another finger enter me and I moan.

He's used his fingers to massage me before, he's even slid the tip of his index finger inside, but two fingers is just…

"Holy fuck," I groan and punch the mattress.

Edward removes his thumb from inside me and works my clit. His fingers slowly pump in and out of my body and I'm going to come if he says one more word about Will.

"Did you kiss him?" I ask, my voice tight and high. My back arches off the bed when I feel his knuckles moving inside me. I'm fucking delirious.

"Yeah," Edward's voice hangs in the air, and I picture him kissing a boy.

I shout and come, wishing I was coming on his cock, wishing he had two, thanking Peter and the sex shop and women's liberation or whoever made it quasi-acceptable for me to purchase the vibrator that is soon to be in my ass, and hoping that Edward fucks me again very soon.

"I want you so much." He pulls his fingers out and reaches for the hand wipes that I leave on my desk next to the bed. "All the time, baby. Just you." He's telling me a story about fucking a couple of strangers while reassuring me that he loves only me.

Edward stays on his knees, discards the used wipe, and lifts my right leg to rest my ankle on his shoulder. He pivots my body and straddles my left leg on the mattress, reminding me of the first night we were together. That night he had us in this position and ran his fingers down the crack of my ass. I thought then I'd do anything he wanted. I wasn't wrong.

He guides himself inside the more traditional entrance to my body and reaches for the lube. I pick up the vibe and hand it to him and he smiles. He covers the vibe with Maximus and with his left hand he lowers it to the general vicinity of where we are currently joined.

"Ready, baby?" His eyes meet mine, and I nod and breathe and flutter.

I am about to be double penetrated.

Edward slips the toy into my ass, slow and easy. It's cold and wet and a little clinical feeling. But then he starts to move his cock inside me, and he's not cold at all. He leans forward and his upper body is hovering above me, the hand that isn't moving the vibrator in and out of me is braced next to my ribcage.

Just as the toy adapts to my body heat, Edward flips the switch.

"Jesus," we breathe in unison. It's overwhelming and the word mind-blowing runs across a marquee in my brain.

He alternates his cock and the vibe. I still don't know what to do with my hands, so I just reach for the headboard and hold on. He kisses me deeply then rests his forehead on mine.

This experience is wiping him out, physically and emotionally. He's so into it, enjoying it, but doing his level best to make sure I love it, too. I do love it. I love the way this feels and I love that he's telling me about one of his experiences, making our experience that much more fucking awesome.

"Did you fuck him?" I ask, out of breath and out of focus.

"No," Edward admits, his voice straining and tense. He's being so gentle, and I can tell he just wants to plow into me. But this all feels unreal and totally real at the same time. I can't believe it's so good and it just makes me crazier for him.

"I can feel every fucking inch of you," I groan and kiss him again.

"Fuck, I know. And the fucking vibrator..." he whispers and kisses me back. "I'm gonna come, Bella. Just lose control."

He means that he's losing control and he's inviting me to do the same. I nuzzle his face and grip the headboard tighter.

"Harder?" I whisper back. "Just a little?"

Edward braces himself and fucks me harder, like I asked, keeping pace with the vibe. He's going to come any second. I can feel him pulse and twitch inside me and it sets me off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants along with his rhythm, and I shout his name.

I don't know how long I was out. But when I come back to reality, Edward is lying semi-diagonally across my body. He's removed the toy and turned it off. He's still inside me, though, and his hand is over my heart.

"Wow," I say. I'm kind of stunned. I've never blacked out from sex. That right there was some intense fucking. But if it can be topped, I'm sure we'll do it.

Edward slowly pulls out of me and rolls to his back. He grabs my hand and kisses it about a million times.

"So," I sigh. "Ready to switch the vibe and your cock?"

Edward stops kissing, but leaves his lips pressed against my skin. Then he starts to laugh. He tugs my arm and I roll to my side then over on top of him, our legs entwined. Now I'm laughing, too.

"Sure, baby." He chuckles and shakes his head, nudging my jaw with his nose. "Just give a minute or two to recover. I'll be ready and rarin' to go."

I'm kidding, of course. I'm fucking exhausted. But we'll try the switch. Soon. Tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

* * *

**3. Edward's College Threesome with a Dude**

**AN: This was a b-day present for Moojuicey in the spring of 2010. It is set somewhere in the early-mid 1990s, when Edward was an undergrad. Will may seem familiar to some of you Whedon fans. **

"Oatmeal Cookie shooter," Will announced as he pushed two shot glasses toward Nicole and I from his station behind the bar. "Goldschläger and Irish Cream." Will lifted his own shot in a toast, arching one scarred brow, and we clinked glasses. "It's Nicole's favorite."

"It's beautiful." Nicole sighed and touched the glass to her heart-shaped lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, sipping more than shooting the thick, rich drink. I watched her throat undulate as she swallowed, a look of pleasure spreading across her lightly freckled face.

Nicole was nothing at all like Tanya. She was quick-witted, not afraid to speak her mind, and absolutely adorable. She was barely five feet tall with soft, reddish-brown hair, and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

"Cullen," Will called to me, and I switched my eyes to his gaze. "You gonna take that shot, or drink Nicole dry?" Will's ice blue eyes roamed my face knowingly, a wry grin on his face.

I laughed then shot my Oatmeal Cookie. I heard Nicole giggle and saw her delicately swipe the corner of her mouth with her middle finger in my peripheral vision.

"Good, right?" she asked. Her voice played in my ears, but not annoyingly so, as I set my shot glass on the bar and nodded.

Will's fingers brushed mine when he took the empty glasses to wash. It wasn't the first indication to me that he might be interested in me as more than a bar patron, and it wasn't the first time I quietly welcomed the advance.

He rang the bell to announce last call and I heard the patrons groan and whine against their impending expulsion. I continued to stare down at the wood of the bar, digging my thumbnail into the groove of a large "B" that was inexplicably carved into the surface.

"Thanks for the song, by the way." Nicole's smile was evident in her voice. She was friendly, but not too flirty; secure, without being smug; and really fucking sexy.

"I like The Ramones."

"We haven't played that one in a while." I shrugged, grinning at her sideways. She knew my act of nonchalance was a hoax; I was sure that Will had told her that I asked about her weeks ago.

"I see." She nodded and smirked, reaching for her water glass to take a sip.

I had seen Nicole several times, sitting at the end of the bar, but was always too late or already too engaged with another girl to have a real conversation with her. When I asked about her, Will told me her name, that they were roommates, and that she liked The Ramones.

I saw her at the bar, I told the guys in my band that we were going to do "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend", and they didn't argue. Jasper liked the brief break on the skins - slower, softer song - and Nate was always too stoned to care what we did.

While the bar clientele filtered out, Will closed down, and Nicole and I played Gin Rummy. Jasper and Nate left, giving me a thumbs-up and wagging their eyebrows at Nicole. I wanted to go home with her, yet, I knew this night would be unlike any other night I had gone home with any other girl. For one thing, there was Will.

Will had twinkle lights strung around his small, untidy bedroom. As he was lighting incense, the sweet scent filling the air, I popped the top of a Summit and hung in the doorway.

Nicole mumbled something to Will and he laughed then, crossed the room to the single-sized futon mattress on the floor. He fluffed the bedding and I turned my eyes back to Nicole, watching her sway and sip her red wine in the middle of the room.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower, Will." Her voice was clear, but quiet. She trailed her fingers across his shoulder and chest as she made her way to the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I flattened my back to the doorjamb as Nicole passed me. She barely brushed against me, seeming suddenly shy, not making eye contact.

"She's nervous," Will said. He shrugged then cast a cautious glance at me over his shoulder. "She's fantasized about it, being two guys at once." He flipped through stacks of totally unorganized CDs, flicking his gaze to mine between the random slaps of the cases. "But she's never done it before."

And there it was. Out in the open. This is what we were doing. I knew, he said it, and Nicole was thinking about it.

"What do you want to listen to, then?" He turned to look to me askance.

I was still getting used to the reality that I was about to have my first threesome. I had no idea what a person listened to for their first threesome. With another guy.

Will held up a Massive Attack CD and waved it in his hand, staring me in the face with an impatient look of "make up your mind already."

"Massive Attack is cool." I shrugged and tightly gripped my beer bottle. I took a deep breath and one big step inside the room.

Several months ago, I had stayed after Will closed the bar, doing shots with him and talking cars. At one point, I spilled a bit of Ouzo and licked my fingers. Will asked me if I needed "help with that" with an unmistakable look in his eyes. I doubted what he wanted was more Ouzo, considering we were both fucking hammered off the shit. That night, I left the bar thinking about what it'd be like to let him "help me with that" or anything else for that matter.

"So..." I took another deep breath and a few more steps into the room. "How does this work?"

There were lots of rumors about Will: he was gay, he was bi, he was a porn star. I knew a girl who dated him for almost a year. She once told me he had an arsenal of sex toys to rival Jenna Jameson. To say I was intrigued with Will was an understatement.

Will chuckled and sipped his own beer before lowering it again, letting the bottle dangle between his black-tipped fingers beside his thigh. Yeah, Will painted his fingernails black.

"Well, you're obviously into little Miss Nicole." Will raised his bottle, pursed his lips, and tipped it toward the door where Nicole had exited just moments before. "And while I am most definitely into the both of you, you're not required to reciprocate any of my advances." He lowered his head, but kept his eyes on me, serious. "You and I don't have to even speak to each other, let alone touch-"

"What if I want to?" I asked and shifted my weight, but never broke eye contact.

"Well, then…" Will smirked again. "That's a different story now, isn't it?" He sipped his pale ale and his eyes twinkled. "We can play it by ear, yeah?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Anything I need to know about Nicole before we get started?"

Just then Nicole entered the room. Her hair was damp and she smelled like vanilla and lavender. She was wearing a partially buttoned, light blue, men's oxford shirt, which I assumed was Will's, and I could see a pair of cotton shorts peeking out from under the shirt. Will was average height and average build, but Nicole was swimming in the shirt.

"She likes to be undressed," Will answered, grinning at Nicole and crossing the room to meet her. She smiled up at him as he buried a hand under her hair at the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. He then walked around to stand behind her. His hand never left, but trailed across her collarbones to settle on her opposite shoulder as her head rested against his chest. Her eyes were closed as she stood in front of him.

Will turned slightly to set his beer bottle on the nearby dresser then rested his hand on her hip. His other hand slowly traced from her shoulder down the placard of the randomly buttoned shirt Nicole was wearing.

I took another gulp of my beer, set it aside, and walked closer to them. Nicole was so pretty and so tiny, I couldn't help but think of her as delicate and fragile. But she was a strong girl. She was smart and funny, and she knew what she wanted.

Nicole opened her eyes, lazily taking in my approach. She reached a hand up to touch my face.

"I like you better when you're clean shaven." She smiled and cupped my jaw, urging me toward her. "You have such a pretty face."

I stifled an eye roll, not wanting to do anything to ruin a moment as heady as this, but I kind of hated being the "pretty boy." Pops told me that one day I'd appreciate it, but being told that I was pretty always made me feel a little less than masculine.

"You like being undressed, huh?" With one finger, I toyed with the hem of her shorts touching her creamy, smooth skin. I watched my finger stroke her flesh and goosebumps began to appear. I raised my eyes to make eye contact with her and she grinned.

"Yeah," she whispered, reaching up and running her hand around the back of my head as I stood a mere two inches in front of her.

"Spread your legs," I ordered. Will stopped kissing her neck and looked up at me with surprise and fire dancing across his face. Nicole arched a brow and slowly widened her stance. I ran my fingers up under the hem of her shorts and grazed the wetness at the juncture of her thighs.

"Good girl," I said, before cupping one hand against her face and kissing her full on the mouth. She still tasted sweet from the shots we did earlier.

"Sweet," I mumbled into her mouth as my finger stroked her inside her shorts.

Her hands reached for my hair again and we were suddenly kissing like our lives depended on it, gripping each other's hair and skin.

"She's sweet everywhere," Will said, chuckling, stepping back, and pulling his shirt over his head. "Mind if I kick back and watch for a bit?" He turned and wandered to his chair in the corner of the room, retrieving an unopened beer from the 6-pack we brought into the room. He popped the top off the bottle and perched on the edge of the recliner. "Course you don't." I heard him laugh lightly as he took a swig of beer.

I kept one hand in her hair, pulling her deeper into the kiss. My other hand left her shorts, and I smoothed the back of my hand up over the front of her belly, her chest, and her shoulders. I paused to feel her nipples tighten through the men's shirt. I remembered her joking earlier in the night about being small chested. I didn't see anything wrong with her. It was turning me the fuck on, feeling her breathe and shudder. Knowing my hands were making her tighten and gasp.

"Pretty," I whispered and pulled the front of the shirt open to reveal her hard, little nipples. "So pretty."

I smiled so big I think my jaw cracked. I pinched her lightly and she hissed through her teeth. I didn't really want to stop kissing her mouth, but I wanted to taste her everywhere else, too. I wanted her nipples between my lips and on my tongue.

"Yeah," Will muttered from somewhere on my left. "She is, isn't she?" He took another gulp of his beer and I heard it slosh in the bottle as I pulled Nicole's nipple into my mouth and ran my hand down to her waist.

My fingers found their way into the opening at the bottom of the shirt where she hadn't finished buttoning it. I hooked them into the front of her shorts, just below her navel, and felt that it was pierced. I loved that. I ran my thumb up and around the little, steel hoop through her bellybutton and she giggled, her hands traveling down my torso to the hem of my shirt.

"Not that I want you to stop playing with my piercing, but I'd kinda like to see you without a shirt on." Nicole bit her lip when I looked into her face for further clarification. "So unless you want this totally awesome London Calling t-shirt torn up the front, you're gonna need to back up a little so I can have better access."

I conceded, biting my own lip and lifting my arms over my head. She quickly yanked my t-shirt and the white, long-sleeved thermal that was underneath away and tossed them somewhere near Will.

I didn't hesitate to get my hands back on her body. I reached for her hip and the buttons on the shirt. I flipped several of the top buttons open and took one of her tits in my hand and the nipple into my mouth.

"Fuck," Nicole moaned. My other hand slipped around her waist and down to cup her ass, bringing her lower half close to me again. She was arched slightly backward over my forearm, so I had unrestricted contact with her taut nipples.

Will was watching us intently. I heard his zipper and saw him reposition himself in the chair. I released Nicole, just slightly, to steady us both and move to the futon that sat on Will's floor. I pulled her with me and settled on the edge of the mattress, my knees bent on either side of her standing form.

"All this talk of undressing you and you're still wearing your clothes." I reached up to slip her tiny cotton shorts down her legs. Looking back up at her, I asked, "Will you talk to me, Nicole? Tell me how this feels."

"It feels good," she breathed, and kicked the shorts away from our bodies. I wasn't sure if she wanted to talk a lot, but I liked her voice and I hoped she would tell me what she wanted and didn't want.

"Good." I kissed the exposed skin of her hip between my thumb and index finger. "Keep talking."

Each of my hands slid to wrap around the backs of each of her thighs, and I urged her toward me. Her shirt was bunched at my wrist and she balanced her fingers on my shoulders. I explored the backs of her thighs and the opening between her legs. I licked her tentatively, keeping her steady with my other hand and feeling her wetness gather around my finger as it slipped in and out of her from behind.

"God." Her voice shuddered, breathy and light. I was so fucking proud to be able to do this to her, make her react this way.

I'd been eating pussy since I was fifteen. I loved it, loved having that affect on a girl's body, give her pleasure. I loved the taste and I loved the sensation. There was nothing in the world like making a girl come with my mouth and my hands. I loved getting off just as much as the next guy, but I could eat pussy for hours and never tire of it.

My thumb settled firmly next to her clit as I licked along the other side. Nicole's hands became more demanding, grasping my shoulders and digging into my hair.

"More," she whispered. "Inside."

She was telling me, not asking or begging. Her voice was quiet but strong, not whiney or whimpering. I knew I shouldn't think it at that moment, but Tanya always used that pseudo-porn star voice when we fucked, and it always made me think she just wasn't in the moment.

I pulled my finger away from where it was fucking Nicole from behind and transferred her balance to that hand, sliding two other fingers inside her from the front. I never stopped licking her and I used my thumb to work her clit with my tongue. So fucking tasty.

Nicole came against my face quietly and more quickly than I had anticipated. She sighed and slumped forward, resting her slight weight against my upper body, over my shoulder. I pulled my fingers from inside her and used both hands to bring her down next to me on the mattress.

She smiled at me and we kissed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Will jacking off in the chair across the room. I finished taking her shirt off and pulled one of her nipples into my mouth.

We kissed and touched, and she told me about the cat that lived with her parents. She wished she could have him with her, but Will was allergic and their landlord wouldn't permit it. I didn't know why she was telling me about her cat, but it was sort of endearing. She was also fiddling with my button fly and staring at my chest.

"Was that good, Ducks?" I heard Will ask Nicole, and I felt the mattress sag behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw that he was naked and hard. I realized he must not have come yet. He rested a hand on my hip and stretched out behind me on the small futon mattress. Nicole was also nude, but I was still wearing my jeans and boots.

"I should…" I sat up to undo my pants, maneuvering myself from between their bodies. There was a shuffling sound at my side and I saw Will move forward to kiss Nicole sweetly. I crawled toward the head of the bed, opposite Nicole and Will at the foot of the bed, and swung my legs to the side to unlace my boots. Then I stood to kick them off and completely rid myself of my pants.

By the time I turned back around, Will was lying on top of Nicole, between her thighs. I crossed the room wearing nothing (because I had stopped wearing underwear in college, much to my mother's dismay), and reached for my beer. I really wanted a cigarette. I didn't know what was going to happen next. I thought about jacking off and watching, like Will had done, but I couldn't not touch her.

Will knelt upright between Nicole's thighs and pulled her legs up to drape over his forearms. At some point, he had put a condom on and before I knew it, he slipped inside. He pushed into her hard and slow, his feet anchored against the pillows and blankets that were piled against the wall. With each thrust, Nicole inched gently toward the end of the mattress, until her head hung off the end.

I walked back to the bed and knelt on the floor facing Will in front of Nicole's head. I sat on my haunches and bent to kiss her upside down mouth and jaw. I held her face in my hands and caressed her as we kissed. Then her hands grasped mine and she whispered, "I want you in my mouth."

I wanted to be sure she wanted it, but I also wanted to see her face – the confirmation that she wanted me - so I looked into her eyes. I wanted to dive in and swim in the ocean blue. I kissed her lips as Will kissed her ankle then her knee before he rested her ankles on his shoulders.

I knelt upright again, resting my hands on either side of her face. I looked at Will and felt Nicole's small, warm hands grab my cock. Then I felt her tongue lick me and her lips encircle me. Will and I were still looking at each other, but I blinked lazily as Nicole took me all the way inside her mouth.

"Fuck, yeah," Will groaned, fucking her hard and steady. The pace he set established the rhythm she used as she sucked and licked my cock. I broke eye contact with Will and gazed down at Nicole's face. I watched as my cock slipped in and out of her mouth.

Unbelievable.

I groaned and reached for her hands, pulling them away from my body. Leaning forward, I spread my legs a little bit to gain a more solid stance, more leverage. I placed our joined hands against the sheets on either side of her ribcage. I was fucking her mouth, and we were holding hands.

Will moaned and swiveled his hips. He gripped her calves, removing her ankles from his shoulders, and re-placing her feet on the mattress. He placed his hands close to Nicole and my joined hands, and leaned forward. His face was close enough to mine that I could kiss him, if I wanted. "You like getting fucked, don't you?"

Will's voice was light and teasing, and Nicole hummed around my cock. Her knees swayed and Will reached down between their bodies to massage her clit, balancing himself on one arm. I wanted to come, but I was so fucking fascinated by what I was seeing.

Nicole's tongue was pierced and it felt insane. The extra stimulation made me want to jam my cock right down her throat on instinct. But I knew that was an asshole move and if I did that, the feeling of the little steel ball would go away. So instead, I was thrusting gently into her mouth, occasionally down her throat, as she writhed beneath Will and I both, moaning and gripping my hands. I looked up just in time to see Will lose himself inside her, and that did it.

"Nicole," I breathed. "I'm gonna come."

She stiffened slightly. I was not going to make this girl swallow my cum if she wasn't into it. I gently pulled out of her mouth and quickly spilled over the mattress, our entwined hands, and the side of one of her breasts.

I bent to kiss her again and apologized for getting her messy. I didn't even realize Will had left the bed because Nicole and I were giggling like a couple of school kids. Will returned with a hand towel, a washcloth, and a small basin of water. He handed Nicole and I the washcloth and we cleaned our hands and her body.

"Well," Will handed us each a fresh, opened beer. "That was fun."

"It was nice," Nicole said and sat up. She had a little grin on her face as she started to straighten the sheets and blankets. "But I don't know why were doing this in here. You're such a fucking pig, Will. Look at your bed." I wondered if she had come again with Will. I hoped she had.

I reached out and touched the skin inside her damp thighs. Of course, I saw the tattoo before, I just didn't know what it was until right then.

"Is that… a bite?"

Will and Nicole both laughed, and she shook her drying hair over her shoulders.

"Yeah," she answered, rotating her legs outward to shed more of the dim light onto the tat. "It's a vampire bite. Do you like it?"

"Wild." I'm sure I looked at her in awe. She and Will chuckled again, looking a little bit like Sid & Nancy, cozied up on the messy mattress on the floor.

"Let's go to your room, love." Will stood and walked across the mattress toward his dresser. "Your bed's bigger."

Will and I gathered our beers, and I handed Nicole the discarded shirt from the floor. Will was walking around naked with absolutely no apprehension, and I wasn't exactly shy, but I could tell that Nicole wasn't looking forward to waltzing through their apartment without anything on. She thanked me for the shirt, slid her arms into it, scooted off the edge of the bed, and stood up, pulling the shirt around her middle, but not buttoning it.

She stopped in the bathroom along the way as Will and I wandered to the end of the hall where Nicole's much larger and cleaner room was located. Nicole joined us moments later, quickly lighting a row of pillar candles on a silver platter, which decorated a low, antique-looking dresser. Will plopped down onto her bed, cross-legged, and scooted back so he was propped against pillows and the headboard.

"Come and sit," Will spoke to Nicole, and patted the lavender-colored comforter in front of his folded legs. "I want to comb your hair."

Nicole switched off the lamp beside the bed and grabbed a brush from the drawer. She then handed the brush to Will and climbed into his lap. He started to gently comb her hair and she smiled.

With the exception of the brief moment when I could have kissed Will, and his fleeting touch to my hip, we hadn't had much contact. I wondered if we would. Not that I wasn't enjoying myself. Just the thought of him being there with me, with her, was stimulating. I was already getting hard again.

I sat on the edge of the mattress, very aware of my nudity and my erection. Nicole was relaxed in Will's lap, her back to his chest, and her thighs lightly open. I reached out a hand to see how wet she was, stroking her with one finger, and she moaned.

"Do you want us both, now, love?" Will murmured into her ear. Nicole's face flushed pink and she nodded "yes."

"I do," she breathed.

Will dropped the brush to the surface of her bedside table and opened the drawer. I thought he was going to replace the brush, but instead he pulled out a small plastic bottle.

"Get up on your knees, then," Will instructed, and Nicole complied. He was still propped up against the pillows, giving him easy access to her body. Her shirt fell open and I lost my mind as I turned and knelt on the bed in front of her.

Will stretched out his legs and Nicole straddled his thighs. I moved between his knees and pushed the shirt from her shoulders, kissing her everywhere, pulling her nipples between my lips one at a time.

I slid my hand into her hair, cradling her head, and looked over her shoulder at Will. I watched him relax into a reclined sitting position against the pillows, and coat his fingers with the slick substance from the plastic bottle. His hand disappeared under her and she sighed.

"Another," she whispered. He must've been penetrating her with his fingers. And she wanted more.

I had read about anal sex, and I really wanted to try it, but I never felt like there was an appropriate time for it. But these two knew what they were doing. At least I could enjoy the show.

I reached between Nicole and my bodies and stroked her clit. God, she was so fucking wet, slick, ready. I wanted her, but I knew I'd have to wait for my cue. And I also wanted her to come a million times for the beauty and grace that she was.

As I kissed her lips and her neck and listened to her sounds of satisfaction, I looked to see Will, still sliding his fingers into her ass, reach for a condom and bring it to his mouth. He tore the package open with his teeth, then removed his fingers from her long enough to roll the latex down his cock.

I cannot tell a lie. It was fucking hot watching him handle himself with confidence and purpose. I wanted to touch him like that.

"Sit back, now." Will gently pulled Nicole's thighs further open and back. "Sit on my cock, just the way you like."

I helped her balance and I watched in fascination as she hovered, kneeling above him, straddling his angled hips like a reverse cowgirl, and then sinking slowly down into his lap.

"Fucking Christ," Will breathed and grinned ear to ear. "You are such a beautiful, dirty girl."

Nicole slowly rose up and settled down twice before she finally looked at me, wantonly inviting me in. I moved closer, between Will's outstretched thighs, which were encased by Nicole's knees. Will handed me a condom and I didn't hesitate to rip open the package and roll the fucker on. I wanted in. Immediately.

Nicole wrapped her arms around my neck. She was suspended in front of Will as he held her hips and she rode him. I planted one hand beside Will's hip on the bed and guided my cock inside her with my other hand.

Fuck, I wanted to drive into her hard and fast. I pitched forward, feeling her grip me, and feeling Will slipping in and out on the other side of her wall. I buried my fists in the comforter on either side of Will's hips and my face in Nicole's neck.

"Can you feel me, Cullen? I can feel you. Fuck, that's good."

I stopped kissing Nicole's neck and started kissing Will's mouth. I liked his words, but I couldn't decide if I wanted to consume them or hear them.

Nicole gasped and bit my shoulder. She said "fuck" and "slower" and "harder" and "FUCK." I rotated my hips, mindless to everything but her pussy and Will's mouth. I did what felt good, thrusting and sucking, groaning. I felt her tighten around me, felt Will's fingers dig into my hip, heard her groan loudly and Will grunt.

I don't remember much after I came. We cleaned up, exhausted and smiling. We all piled into Nicole's bed. I was the middle spoon, with Nicole tucked into my chest.

At some point before dawn, I woke to Nicole languidly stroking my cock, kissing my neck and my chest, and licking my nipples. I felt Will's hands on me, too. His hands were slick and wet. In a blissful haze, I felt him slowly work one lubed finger into my ass. I came all over Nicole's hands and belly before rolling her to her back and burying my face in her pussy. My last memory of that encounter was Will lying on his side, jacking off while Nicole came in my mouth for the second time.

The next morning I awoke alone. I smelled coffee and there was a note beside me on the rumpled bed.

_Cullen,_

_Nicole had to work and I'm going to the gym. Help yourself to coffee or whatever._

_Thanks for last night. We loved being with you. If you'd like to do it again sometime, just say the word._

_See you at The Bronze,_

_Will and Nicole_

The previous night had been my last gig at The Bronze. Two weeks later, I graduated college. I never saw either of them again.

* * *

**4. Happy Birthday, Edward**

**A/N: This was originally written for Kassiah because A) she is a princess, B) she loves these two dirty perverts as much as I do, and C) she bid on me to kick cancer's ass in the 2010 Support Stacie auction. I love you, Kass.**

"Happy Birthday."

I hear her husky voice before I see or feel her. Bella's been out of town and I wasn't expecting her back until tonight. Not that I'm disappointed.

"Hey, baby," I greet her, trying to gather my bearings, sitting up in my bed.

I really am happy that she's home early, especially when I get a look at her.

Bella's wearing a trench coat and black, strappy heels. Her long, dark hair is full and curled around her pretty face. The coat is white and it falls just below her knees. It's heavy, but tailored to fit her petite frame, cinched tight around her tiny waist. When I recognize her furtive grin, my morning wood is suddenly tree-like.

"You're home early," I mutter and rub my face with my hands, discreetly checking my breath. It smells like shit, so I grab the glass of water that I filled at four AM when I stumbled to bed. I take a few gulps, swishing it around in my mouth.

"No Girls Allowed," is what Emmett said last night. He, Jasper, and the Gay Mafia took me for sushi, then we played poker at the club, where Eric offered (threatened) to give me a lap dance. Twice.

"C'mere." I try to swing my legs around to get up and out of bed, but Bella stops my movement with the toe of her stiletto-encased foot placed delicately against my chest. Her opposite hand is braced on my headboard and the delicate fingers of her other hand dance lightly at her throat.

"Stay," she whispers and her face flushes pink. Her eyes flick briefly to mine and I can see the indecision dance across her face. She's into this, but she's used to me driving the train.

Bella drops her foot to the edge of the mattress and tosses her hair back as I slowly lean on my side, into my pillows. She rolls her shoulders and the opening of her coat reveals her beautiful chest.

Fuck me.

I can see white lace covering her breasts and black satin on her shoulders.

"Just… relax." Her voice is small and quiet, raspy. It's an aphrodisiac all its own. If Bella hadn't had aspirations for other things, she could have made a fortune as a phone sex professional. "It's your birthday. I don't want you to have to work too hard."

"What if I want to work hard?" I smirk. No matter how hung over I am, I love working Bella hard.

"There'll be time for that later." She's gaining confidence as I push her, which is how this usually works with us. She starts off shy and intimidated, I antagonize her, and she's suddenly huffy and bossy. I dig bossy Bella.

"Right now, just sit back and enjoy the show." She smiles sweetly and her dimples pop, making me chuckle with delight.

Bella slowly unties the belt, which is the only thing keeping her coat closed around her, and runs her fingers from her throat down the front of her body. I can better see what she's wearing now. Her bra and panty set looks like an abbreviated French maid uniform or a mock tuxedo, and I could not be more fucking thrilled.

I moan and grab a stray pillow, bringing it to my chest. I'm perpetually turned on when I'm hung over.

Last month, Bella and I finally agreed – after ten months of packing overnight bags and sleeping at each other's places – that we would take the plunge and buy a ranch together. We went out and celebrated with shots and too much beer.

Thankfully, Heidi kept Delia busy the morning after while I took Bella in every way imaginable for hours on end between brief naps, sips of water, and bathroom breaks.

Bella drops the coat to the floor, kicks it aside, and backs away from the bed. Her hands roam lazily over her body as she starts to tease me with her words.

"Edward…" She pauses and fidgets, eyes glued to the floor. "Have I ever told you how much I love your hands?" she asks, raising her eyes just enough to meet mine through her lashes.

I don't answer Bella's question. I know she's trying to talk dirty. She's trying to get herself warmed up to say something really dirty, but the dirtiest thing she can think of right now – or ever, really – is to talk about my hands.

"See that iPod?" she asks, as her fingers move absently over her skin. I briefly break our eye contact and turn my head slightly to spy Bella's familiar green Nano in the docking station next to the bed. I return my gaze to her perfect little body and rake my eyes up her form to meet her eyes again. I nod "yes."

"I want you to use your hands, Edward." Her voice is quiet and it lilts as her thumbs hook in the edges of her tiny, frilly panties. I lick my lips and watch her slowly stretch and slip the silky waistband up and down her hips like a tease. "I want you to push play. On the iPod."

I'm enthralled by all that skin and her sweet voice. It takes me a good three seconds, which doesn't seem like long, but she's looking at me like I'm slow. It finally registers that she's – half-naked and turned on – given me a command, and my eyes snap to hers.

She slowly swivels her hips and licks her lips, then brings a hand up to the strap over her shoulder and snaps it at the front.

"Now," she demands with an arch of her brow.

Fucking shit.

"Yes, ma'am," I answer and turn to press play.

Music fills the room. The beat is slow and sultry. A woman's voice sings along with a familiar melody. A man's voice joins the woman's voice, and Bella is smiling, swaying, her hands doing all the things mine want to be doing.

The man says he's a man and the woman says she's… a lot of things, from a bitch to a geisha to a little girl—things that Bella would never say in a situation like this.

She'd say these things jokingly with a drink in her hand, self-deprecating and laughing, but never with any kind of seriousness or intent.

There's moaning and sighing in the song. I know this is a remake of that old Berlin song, but I don't care where it came from because Bella's hand is in the front of her panties and two of the fingers of her other hand are in her mouth.

She isn't saying a word. She's leaving all the dirty talk up to the couple on the porn soundtrack, which is fine with me since her mouth is otherwise occupied with glorious licking and sucking. She gives equal attention to both sets of fingers once she switches her hands - the hand that was in her panties is now in her mouth and the wet fingers from her mouth are in her panties.

"Mmm," she moans.

Christ.

I shouldn't be objectifying my beautiful girlfriend, who I love, as she writhes around like a stripper, doing all the cliché things that people mock in mixed company. But fuck, she looks hot. Like I've never seen. And Bella is fucking crazy hot.

And I am fucking crazy horny. My dick is so hard I'm about to come in my pajama pants watching her finger herself – which, by the way, I have never watched her do. Not that she's never touched herself with me in the same room, but I've never sat and watched her get herself off like this.

"I'm a slut," the woman coos, and I swear to fucking God, Bella moans back.

Shit.

She pulls one of the cups of her bra down and pinches her nipple as she sits back on the settee. I just now notice that she's dragged the piece of furniture around so that when she leans back I have a perfect view of her from my position on the bed.

She's sprawled open with her hand between her legs. She's slouched, looking debauched and wanton. I want to fuck her, but I want to watch her do this. I want to record it and review it whenever I'm sad or lonely or scared, because Bella with her hair a mess and her tits spilling from her bra, making herself come with her own hands on my settee is a beautiful thing.

She throws one of her legs over one of the red upholstered arms then settles on her side, keeping one leg dangling toward the floor. Her legs are open wide enough for her to reach what she wants to touch. She has both hands in her panties now, and I'm gripping the pillow for dear fucking life. I watch her back arch and her dangling, black, strappy sandal scrape at the floor.

I listen to the music change as I watch Bella relax into the cushions. She pulls her legs together and her hands from her panties. She puts her fingers in her mouth again and opens her eyes, burning into mine. She lays curled on her side, sucking her fingers and humming along with the song.

The new song is If Loving You is Wrong by Faithless. Bella's picked some filthy lyriced music for this little adventure, but I'm not complaining.

"…I swear you look wicked with your panties in your hair,

Eyes half closed,

Cute little nose,

And like a pound of self-raising I just rose and rose."

Bella rises to her feet and fumbles with her bra as she slowly walks to the bed. She pulls her straps over her shoulders and caresses and bounces her rounded flesh. She pinches her nipples again and then reaches around behind her to unclasp the hook, slowly removing it completely and quickly tossing it to the side.

She continues to approach me in those fucking gorgeous shoes, because she knows I love fucking her with her shoes on.

God, I hope she lets me fuck her with her shoes on.

She rounds the bed at the foot and climbs onto the mattress, crawling toward me, reaching for the pillow then tossing it away. She pulls the sheets down and drags my pajama pants over my hips.

"Oh." Bella gasps and sits back on her haunches, straddling one of my shins. She bites her lip and tilts her head to the side, feigning innocence. The soft curls of her hair fall gently around her face. "What's that?"

I moan and fall completely back into my pillows. I love this game she's playing.

She falls forward onto all fours, pouts her lips, and kisses my cock, sweet and slow.

"Fuck," I chucklegroan and thrust. I want inside her mouth. I want to push hard and slow, sink my fingers into her hair and fuck her throat. I want to stand up and bend her over and take her from behind. I want to fuck her till she can't breathe. I am so fucking hard, and I might still be drunk. And Bella is going to make me come so fast.

She places a gentle hand on my hip and calms me, smirking, settling me into the mattress. I relax slightly, but my hands grip the sheets. She looks into my eyes and I see so much love. God, I love her.

She shakes her head, then dips her chest toward my groin, teasing my cock with her tits. She's barely even touching me, but the visual is stunning. She's not tightening her cleavage or squeezing my dick between her tits. She's just gliding across my hips and her taut nipples are whispering over my skin.

I jacked off in the shower once thinking about Bella in a position very much like this one. In my fantasy, I fucked her tits and she loved it when I came on her neck and face.

It never occurred to me that she would consider such a scenario. I lie back in awe as she lightly grasps my cock and alternates between sucking me into her mouth and teasing me with her nipples. The whole time she watches me, batting her eyes.

This innocent act is killing me. My mind is void of thoughts that aren't directly related to Bella's skin and hair and her wet mouth.

This is going to be messy. I'm going to come hard and loud and, holy fucking…

"Shit," I whisper. I look down and see Bella jacking me firmly, and then I spill across her shoulder, her collarbones, and her pretty, pretty tits.

* * *

I wake and Bella is curled into my side. She's breathing slow and steady. She's asleep. I spot a fresh glass of water on my nightstand, pull slowly away from her so I don't wake her, gulp the cool water down, and get up to use the bathroom.

That's when I remember.

_"Fuck, baby, you look so good with my cum all over you…"_

I shake my head and wander to the bathroom to relieve myself. I brush my teeth and wash my face. I feel less hung over and smelly after I brush my teeth a second time. When I walk back out into the room, I see that Bella hasn't moved. I notice that she's pulled her hair up into a ponytail, but she's still wearing her heels and her panties with the ruffles and bows.

_I swiped a finger between her tits and said, "lick."_

I crawl onto the bed behind her to spoon. I want to make everything up to her and talk to her with tenderness and be everything she is to me.

"Hey," she whispers into my forearm and kisses my skin with her pretty mouth.

"Hey," I whisper back. I try not to feel like a dirty piece of trash for treating her with such disregard after she offered me the best birthday gift ever. I am such a fucking asshole.

"I love you so much, Bella. You know that, right?" I squeeze her hard, trying to convey my feelings of love and regret, and she grunts from the pressure.

"I love you, too, Edward." Her voice is tight, but she laughs. "But please stop squeezing me so hard, you'll break a rib."

"I'm sorry, baby." I release her just enough to allow her to breathe, but I refuse to let her go. I'm not just sorry for squeezing her too hard. "It's just… You're so good to me. So beautiful and perfect and I…"

"You're beautiful and perfect." Bella turns in my arms to face me. "Edward, I trust you. And what we do together is us. Together. Like…" She rolls her eyes and closes them, then swallows hard. I'm afraid she might cry, but she's trying to make a point, so I need to shut the fuck up and let her make it.

"Don't try to make excuses for what happened earlier. Don't apologize for wanting me and showing it." When she opens her eyes, they are fiery and so full of love I can barely breathe. "I was scared as Hell to do that dance..." She laughs nervously and her lip quivers. "But when you just… let go like that." She takes a deep breath. "I was fine with it – turned on, even – that you were so turned on by me."

"Bella." I hold her close to me, trying not to crush her. "How could you think after all we've been through that I wouldn't be turned on by that? Christ."

"Pretty hot, huh?" She giggles into my chest. "But do you think I could ever do that for anyone else-"

"Please say you will never do that for anyone else-"

"No." She pulls away from my chest and looks me in the eye, her lips quirked into a grin. "Only you. Just you and me."

I kiss her tenderly, then not so tenderly. Then I turn her so that her back is to me and lay her flat on her stomach.

I straddle her hips and kiss her soft skin. Bella has the smoothest, prettiest, best smelling skin of anyone I have ever known. Her body is flawless and lithe, but her skin is what makes her absolutely perfect. Her skin and just… her.

Keeping my legs on the outside of her body, I scoot backward and settle my ass between her knees. I explore her backside and knead the skin of her thighs, and she sighs. She rests her head on her hands and arches her back, raising her ass up. I pull her panties down over her ass, halfway down her thighs, and cup her perfect little cheeks, one in each hand, my thumbs slipping down the crack of her ass, skimming until I reach her center.

I slip my thumbs back upward and caress the curve where her ass meets her thighs. I love that spot, she always squirms and whimpers when I touch her there. I run my thumbs back down to her wet lips, then roll my wrist to slip my fingers inside. My fingers fuck her slowly and my wet thumb nudges at her back opening.

I'm getting hard thinking about all the things I've done to her body and all the things I could do to her right now as she lays there vulnerable.

I don't feel guilty anymore. Go figure.

Her hands grip the pillow and I hear her moan when I pull my fingers out to get her wet all over, then slide my fingers back inside. I leave my hand between her legs – fingers inside, thumb rubbing and pressing in the back – and sidle up beside her to brush her hair to the side and kiss her neck. She's panting and rolling and ready to come.

"You gonna be a good girl and come on my hand, baby?" I ask, and I'm breathing right along with her.

She rises up on all fours and slams back onto my hand. The frills of the panties are bunched around her thighs, ruffling and shaking with the force of her thrusts. Her hair is in my other hand so I pull it, turning her head to the side. She's riding my hand hard, and I feel her throb around my fingers.

"That's right," I encourage her, nibbling her neck and stroking her hair. "That's good."

She slowly settles into the mattress on her side, her chest rising and falling. She's covered with a light sheen of sweat and I want to lick it off.

"Roll over." I nudge her. "On your back."

She nods her head and rolls to her back. I climb backward off the bed. I pull her panties the rest of the way off her body then grab her by the ankle and drag her to the edge of the mattress. She's almost falling off the edge, one leg dangling and one ankle in my hand. I grab her loose leg by the ankle and plant both of her heels at the edge of the bed.

"Stay." I tap her feet indicating that I want her in this position. On her back, her knees bent and open wide. Her shiny, black shoes, making me harder, heels digging into the mattress.

I rest my knees against the edge of the bed, in between her feet and her hips, balance one hand on her knee, and use my other hand to guide myself inside her.

She moans and takes her breasts in her hands.

God, she's wet.

"I love you, Bella." I start a slow beat, grabbing her waist to keep her opening flush with the edge of the mattress. The buckles of her shoes are scraping my hips, and it feels so fucking good.

I have full leverage, in a squat, thrusting into her. I angle my thrusts to hit the spot I know she likes. I'm gripping her hips and her whole body shakes with the force.

"Fuck," she moans and she looks shameless. Her other hand travels down between her legs and she starts to rub her clit around and around. She's decadent, and I remember again what she looked like with my cum on her.

I groan. I'm not going to make it much longer.

"You liked it when I came on you, Bella?" I ask tentatively.

"Yes," she whispers and gasps. Her fingers are working her clit so fast. "Oh, God…"

Fuck, she really liked it. I love hearing that she liked it. That she loves me. That she would do those things for me, with me, and no one else. The songs, the dance, everything.

_I'm a slut…_

"Are you my slut, baby?" I whisper, testing. I know she likes it when I talk dirty, but I've never called her dirty names. I want to play with her. I want to do all the things we both fantasize about. But I never want to hurt her or disrespect her.

Bella whimpers and her fingers work faster. She bites her lip and furrows her brow. She likes this too, and she's going to come.

"You are." I slam straight into her, confident in my word choice, and I feel her vibrating around me. "You're my good little slut." I grit my teeth and watch her pull her own hair and raise her hips from the bed.

"Oh, fuck," she whimpers.

I love coming with Bella. In her, on her, with her – it's all so good.

After a moment of recovery, I lift her and push her up toward the head of the bed, resting her on the pillows and staying inside her. We're both sweaty. I love these moments. I've always loved sex, but being with Bella is more than that. It's kissing and laughing and touching and growing.

"You and me?" I ask, breathless, looking her in the eye. I kiss her nose and she giggles that giggle that I love so, so much.

"Yes." She nips my bottom lip. "You and me." She kisses me. "And Delia and Kita. And our ranch. And probably a few horses."

I kiss her back.

"And, ooh! Can we get a llama?" I think she's kidding. I hope she's kidding.

But who am I kidding? I'd trap Jabba the Hut as a pet for her if she wanted. Not just for a birthday present, but because I love her. And I will always love her until the end of time.

* * *

**5. Erotica**

**AN: This was originally written for FGB 2010. This is set sometime between the Valentine's Day anal vibe outtake and Edward's birthday striptease – still within their first year of dating.**

I'm sitting in Peter's living room staring at a book of photography. All the images are black and white portraits of people in various stages of dress and what Garrett refers to as "play". Some of the images are of a man and a woman, some are of women with women, some are men with men, and I'm surprised to realize that the images that intrigue me the most are of one woman and two or sometimes more men. I am even more surprised to realize that the images I like the very best are of a woman who has been blindfolded, bound and otherwise dominated by the man or men in the images.

"See anything you like, princess?" Peter asks, as he wipes down the counter in his and Garrett's kitchen. Garrett is sitting on the couch behind me, me between his knees on the floor, peering over my shoulder.

"We just had a bridal shower for Angela and now we're looking at porn," I state the obvious, clearly disoriented by the situation, as Garrett snickers behind me.

"It's not porn, dear," Peter scolds and wags his wet, soapy finger at me, shaking suds over the counter he just wiped down. "It's erotica, and you should enjoy it. Embrace it!" He throws his hands in the air and bubbles fly everywhere in his kitchen. "You and Mr. Cullen are a couple of kinky birds. That book is right up your proverbial alley."

"Yeah, Izz," Garrett agrees, because apparently it's a well known fact that Edward and I like to fuck. "Maybe you'll even find some new material."

I look back down at the book and take in the image before me. It's simple enough at first, but its implications are subtly boring into my mind. The woman sits blindfolded in a dining chair. She's wearing a short, sheer black cocktail dress. The man stands behind her, pulling the skirt of her dress up to expose her thighs and the gartered stockings that cover them. She looks a little nervous. She seems to be squirming in her seat, but her hands lay relaxed in her lap, at ease.

Eventually, I close the book and finish my apple cider. When I'm finally ready to leave, I quickly kiss Garrett and Peter goodbye, since all the other guests already left. I make my way across the street to my Jeep, fire up the old girl and let her idle for a few minutes, checking my mirrors, adjusting the heat, and fantasizing about the images I saw tonight.

On my ten-minute drive to Edward's house, the image of the blindfolded girl in the black dress blends with images of silk ties and ropes. I start to see the girl with her hands bound behind the back of the chair and her ankles strapped to the wooden legs. I imagine the man sinking his hands into her hair as she swallows him down, and I moan.

"Hey, baby," Edward mumbles around my lips, as I straddle him on the couch and pull his t-shirt up, then over his head. "How was the shower?"

He's clearly amused (and possibly confused) by my behavior, but his hands rest comfortably on my hips, as I lean back just enough to gain access to his jeans. I unbutton his fly and slide from his lap. I ask him, in my own little way, to keep himself "occupied" while I watch and hastily shove my leggings and panties down past my knees to the tops of my red-leather riding boots. My calves are restricted like this, and I kind of like it. I hurry as fast as I can in my limited capacity to settle back over his lap, facing him, then I slowly sink down.

"Not that I'm complaining, Bella, but what the fuck's got you so worked up?" Edward makes a sound that's a cross between a chuckle and a grunt, as he grips my thighs.

I start to ride him hard. I like the sounds of his grunting, but I don't want this practical conversation right now. I just need to be with him. I bury my face in his neck and lick him.

"Tell me I'm your good girl," I whisper. My voice shakes and my breath is hot as it covers his neck and warms my face. I smile and rotate my hips, squeezing as I pull up. I feel him sliding inside me, getting harder by the second.

Edward's hands travel up my thighs and stop at my bare hips. His thumbs brush my hipbones, and I roll my head until my neck is exposed to him. He places a single kiss to my throat before whispering, "You're my good, sweet girl."

His hands remain somewhat passive, languidly stroking my skin and fingering my twisted clothing, as I fuck the living daylights out of him, but his words make me crazy. Words like "harder" and whispered questions like, "Are you gonna come on my cock, baby?"

I think that was a rhetorical question. Regardless, I totally come on his cock. I also may have pulled a hamstring in the process.

Later, as we're climbing into bed for the night, Edward asks me again what got into me since I practically knocked us both unconscious to get him inside me before really even saying hello. I tell him about the book Peter and Garrett have at their house.

"You've never seen anything like that before?" Edward asks, stroking my hair, as I burrow in beside him with my head on his bare chest and sigh.

I love Edward's bare chest.

"Not really?" I don't know how to answer him. Of course I've seen porn before, but I had never seen a collection quite like that, and I'd never been that affected by them. "I guess I just never felt that way about… pictures… before."

"Did you like them?" His hand smoothes over the skin of my arm and my hip, while the other hand toys with strands of my hair.

I weigh my answer carefully, because even though Edward and I have done everything I've ever wanted or thought of, and he has never made me feel unloved or unworthy because of what I like, I'm still not sure exactly what it is I liked about what I saw.

"I don't know how to answer that," I say, and I feel my face flush, thinking of ropes around ankles and black silk covering a woman's eyes.

"Maybe you can just tell me what you saw and then we can talk about it – no value placement, no preferences." He pauses, waiting for that idea to sink in, and I decide that it sounds okay.

I don't respond with words; I simply nod, running my hand over his chest, down his stomach and into his pajama pants. He isn't hard, but he's warm, and I feel him twitch when my hand wraps gently around him.

I tell him about the woman in the chair and the man behind her. I'm not sure if I describe it adequately, but Edward seems to be following along just fine. He doesn't stop stroking my back and playing with my hair as I babble on.

"I can't stop thinking about her," I admit, as his cock slowly hardens in my hand. I touch him lightly with my fingers and say the words that come into my mind thinking of these images. "I keep picturing her in the blindfold and her skirt hiked up… But then I see her with handcuffs or ropes around her wrists, and her feet are always bound to the chair legs."

I'm a little bit confused about what I'm feeling at this point, but the image of the woman is clearer than ever in my mind. Edward and I have screwed around with handcuffs, and he's given me a little smack to the ass on occasion, but this is like… a whole scene, intricate and detailed. It's intimidating thinking about something so involved.

Edward takes my hand out of his pants and rolls us so I'm on my back. I'm easy for him to expose, which he does quite swiftly, because all I'm wearing is panties and an old button-down of his that I only buttoned twice.

"Keep talking, baby." Edward spreads the shirt open at my sides and pulls my nipples into his mouth one at a time, then works his way down my torso, pulling my panties down my thighs. He tosses the satin to the floor and settles between my legs. "Tell me more about the girl."

Edward licks between my lower lips with his flat tongue once then lightly kisses my clit. He slips his tongue inside me and touches me with his fingers and thumb. I raise my arms above my head and start to ramble about the woman and the man and what I want him to do to her.

"I want him to tie her to the chair and..." I moan. "Oh, God…"

I keep talking about wanting the man to do things. I say I want him to stand up and make her take his cock in her mouth. I outline an entire fantasy for Edward as I come. When I settle down, I realize: these are things I want Edward to do to me. It's not the woman and the man in the picture, it's Edward and me.

"I want you, Edward," I breathe, as he settles in next to me. "I want you to do that to me."

Edward's eyes search mine. His fingers tickle my skin and then cradle my face. He closes his eyes and kisses me.

"I'll do anything you want," he whispers between my lips. "But I want to research knots and bindings first."

Edward sounds apprehensive, and when I look into his face, his brow is furrowed.

This is surprising because he's so experienced and we've experimented a lot together not to mention everything he did before he knew me. He told me once that it didn't matter what he'd done before, because everything we did together was special between us.

Oh, man… Maybe I grossed him out!

"Does that gross you out?" I put a bit of distance between us, just to get a good look at his face. The thought of offending Edward is such a foreign concept to me, but if I have offended him, I'll be heartbroken. I never want to drive him away from me. I always want him with me.

"Not at all," he answers softly, pulling me close once more. He kisses my forehead. "It's just new." He shifts his body next to me so we're snuggled in closer. "I want to play, but I want us to be safe."

It never occurred to me that I would want to do something sexually that was new to Edward. I've always relied on his expertise and guidance. I'm stunned silent for a minute, then flustered, then smug.

"Wow." I smirk, propping myself up on my elbow. The covers fall away from my body, and I cock an eyebrow. "I can't believe I came up with an idea that's new to you." I bat my eyes, teasingly.

"Well, if you remember right, you're the one who bought me the Anal Sex kit for Valentine's Day, sassy," Edward drawls and grabs my knee, pulling my leg across his body, trying to get me to sit astride him.

"Yeah, but you'd done that before." I swat his hands, but make no real attempt to resist his pull. "This is new. I think I should get a cookie or something!"

"Silly, Bella," Edward scoffs and settles me over the top of him. He grabs my wrist, pulling me down for a kiss. "I'm not going to give you a cookie just because you asked me to tie you up and fuck your mouth."

"You're so crass," I mumble into the kiss, and he nibbles my bottom lip. He's rotated his hips and is now guiding himself inside me with one hand. "Can't you say 'make love to your mouth'? Jeez..."

A few weeks pass while Edward researches bondage and I browse pictures on the Internet. I Google images of "BDSM", "bondage" and "woman bound to a chair", looking for the image of the girl, but I never find it. Finally, I break down and ask Peter if I can borrow the book.

"See now, I told you you'd find something you'd like." Peter simpers as he hands me the book. I'm drinking his god-awful coffee from a Wolfram & Hart mug in his kitchen, wishing we were conducting this clandestine transaction at the coffee shop where he magically knows how to brew a decent cup of coffee.

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" he asks, and I accept the proffered book. "Hell, I'll give you the damn book, love. Take it home, study it, let that boy do things to you that you refuse to acknowledge in public." Peter shakes a cigarette from its pack onto the tabletop. "I support you one-hundred percent."

He twists the cigarette between his lips and lights it, making me wish I still smoked. After I finish the horrid brown beverage, I borrow – I don't _take_ – the book, and I show it to Edward when he shows up at my apartment.

"Pretty dress," Edward says with a soft and dreamy lilt. We're sitting on my futon with the book open on the covers, the afternoon light waning through the window.

"You have something like that, don't you? Is that what you want to wear?"

"Yeah," I reply quietly, as I trace the image on the page with my pointer finger. Seeing it again in its simplicity – no ropes, no cuffs – reminds me that my imagination is a vast and wild space. "I think I do. Do you like it?" I look into his face. I'm sure my expression is hopeful – I feel hopeful. I want him to want this as much as I do.

"The picture or the dress?" he asks, smiling down at me, but he doesn't wait for my answer as he lightly shakes his head from side to side, inhaling deeply. "I like them both very much."

As we flip through the book, taking in the sensual images, Edward tells me he feels confident about the research he's done and that he has everything we need for the scenario I've concocted in my brain.

I feel a buzz of satisfaction travel through my body, warming me with the thought that he took the time to research this, to do it right. I don't ask about the details of his findings, but I do look forward to the final result.

Two nights later, Delia has a sleep over with Uncle Peter and Uncle Garrett. I stand in Edward's dressing closet, slipping into a black strapless, satin bra, garter belt and stockings – no panties. I dress in my shimmery black, chiffon cocktail dress and patent leather heels that Edward loves. The straps of the dress are slim chains of crystals and they're cool against my skin.

I can hear Edward moving around in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, cleaning up after dinner, while I make my way down the back stairs to the main floor. As I enter the kitchen, I hear a chair scrape across the floor in the dining room, and I freeze.

That's the chair. No turning back now, Bella.

When I can move my legs again, I walk the rest of the way to the dining room where Edward has killed the lights, and burning candles cast a warm glow around the space. Edward stands quietly relaxed behind the chair in question. His face is serene and welcoming. He didn't change his clothes when he got home from his meeting, so he's wearing dark wool slacks, a crisp white button-down, and a crimson tie that he's loosened slightly at the neck.

Oh, God, the tie.

"Have a seat." His hand sweeps cordially in front of the chair, and his voice makes me melt.

I comply with his request, listening as my heels click the bare walnut planks of his dining room floor. I reach the edge of the chair then turn to sit. Within seconds, Edward's warm fingers are pulling my hair away from my neck where he scatters three soft kisses before settling my hair back in place.

"I'm going to blindfold you now," he tells me, and I whimper inside my mind. I promised him that I would be very, very quiet. That's all he asked of me when we discussed our plan last night in bed.

_"I have one small request." His eyes danced with excitement, and his fingers toyed with my nipples. "When I have you all tied up in that chair, I want you to stay nice and quiet, okay?"_

I feel the silk cover my eyes and remember buying the eye mask earlier in the week. Rose asked me if I was having trouble sleeping and suggested I also try melatonin. I laughed. She thought I was crazy.

The blindfold is soft and black, lightly padded, and not at all snug. It doesn't matter, though, because I close my eyes anyway, blocking out any light that might leak through.

Edward's hands ghost over my hair, my shoulders, down my arms. Then his hands leave me, and I hear his belt come undone and free – clinking metal, zipping leather through wool loops.

"I'm going to bind your hands together now." Edward tells me everything he's doing as he's doing it, with his thick, warm voice.

I hear shifting fabric and imagine him on bended knee behind my chair, as my arms are pulled back and together. The leather of his belt is wound around my wrists then pulled tight. He doesn't bind my hands to the chair, only together, and I like that I have just a little bit of movement. My breath shudders and my body warms.

Edward's hands move to the hem of my dress from behind me – his fingers playing, pulling the fabric back, brushing the sensitive skin of my thighs. There is a light rush of air around me as he stands, my skirt slipping under my ass.

"Look at that." Edward's voice plays in my ears and his fingers trace the lace garters, then snap one against my thigh. "Such pretty stockings and garters, but no panties? I thought you were a good girl, Bella."

I squirm and bite my lip, trying to rub my thighs together for some friction, but Edward places his hands firmly on the tops of my thighs, pushing them further apart.

"Keep them open, Bella." His voice is stern, and I couldn't be more thrilled to hear the warning in his tone.

He releases my legs, and I do keep them open, feeling the air shift again as he circles the chair before coming to a stop in front of me. I hear the slipping of his silk tie as he unfastens it, then the slide of the tie through the cotton of his collar.

"Now I'm going to have to tie your ankle to the chair, Bella, since you can't seem to keep your legs open for me," Edward chastises, and I squirm some more.

I imagine what my ankle must look like as he straps it to the wooden leg of the dining chair with his blue-red tie. Edward loves me in red – I'm pretty sure just the thought of red and me gives him an instant hard-on. I know the thought of his hard-on is giving me the female equivalent.

I wiggle my ankle experimentally, the silk of his tie slipping against my skin. Partof me hopes he doesn't see me do it, but a bigger part hopes he does and deems the act to be disobedient.

Mother of God, I want my boyfriend to catch me in disobedient acts and punish me accordingly.

Unexpectedly, Edward doesn't bind my other ankle. Instead he begins to trace patterns on my calves with his fingers, upward toward my knees and my thighs. One set of fingers travels between my legs and grazes my lower lips and clit. One hand continues up over the gauzy fabric bunched around my hips, climbing my ribcage, then the bust of the dress until it reaches its goal and yanks at the strap until it snaps.

"Fuck!" I swear and instinctively lunge forward, but then Edward's hand is against my breastbone, settling me back into the chair. His fingers curl around the curve where my shoulder meets my neck, thumb resting in the hollow of my throat.

"Ah, ah, ah…" His whispered admonishment envelops me, as he slips a thumb inside me, and his pointer finger nestles between my ass cheeks. "What did I say about you being quiet, bad girl?"

My heart is racing. One thumb gently rubs circles at my throat and the other twists inside me. This isn't necessarily what I had anticipated. I assumed as apprehensive as Edward was when I first mentioned him tying me to a chair that he'd just stick with the blueprint, so to speak. But Edward will never be accused of being predictable.

"I bet you want to come, don't you, Bella?" His thumb slips out of me to circle around my clit. His finger is more persistent between my cheeks. "And if I keep this up, you surely will."

I'm right on the edge, as he obviously can tell, and I try to slump into his hand, try to gain momentum, try to come. I feel the back of the chair dig into the skin of my arms and the leather of the belt restricting my wrists.

"But I don't want that yet, and you know it." I can hear Edward's grin in his words. His hands leave my body. He stands and I hear his pants being unbuttoned and unzipped. "Neither do you."

His presence heats my skin as he draws closer, wedging his knee between my legs, pressing into me. He hasn't entirely removed his pants – I can feel the wool against my sensitive clit and on the insides of my thighs. He buries a hand in the back of my hair, and I feel his bare cock nudge my mouth.

"Open up, baby," he mutters, lightly tugging my hair, showing me what we both want.

I open my mouth, and he slips inside. The moment solidifies in my mind. I finally feel what I was trying so fucking hard to conceptualize before now – I'm helpless, bound to this chair, as he steadily guides his way in and out of my mouth. His hand is firm at the back of my head. I have no control at all, but I feel completely stable and safe. I trust him more than I trust myself.

Bump, bump, bumping the back of my throat, soft wool rubbing my clit, leather at my wrists and silk entwining my ankle…

"There you go," Edward says, as he shifts his weight and drives deeper into my throat. The skin of his palm squeaks against the wood of the chair back as his other hand twines in my hair. His knee pushes me open wider, so my loose foot dangles to the side.

"Yes." His breath is ragged, and his thrusts are slow and strong, but then he starts to waver. He's coming and I'm ready. "Fuck!"

It's hot and salty, as it slides down my throat. Edward is tense and then relaxed.

He breathes and pulls himself from my lips, pitches forward, but not enough to topple us, just enough to keep me warm, cradling my head between his hand and his belly. I hum and lick my lips, nuzzling into his shirt.

Then he steps away, releasing me, and I hear him crouch to the floor. He's loosening the tie that's binding my ankle to the chair. When he stands again, he takes my arm that's fastened to the other behind my back and gently pulls me up, leaving my wrists bound.

"Stand up." His voice is soft and loving, encouraging.

I test my legs to stand and lean into him as he guides my arms over the back of the chair. Once I'm standing, I feel the chiffon slip over my hips and back down my thighs. One of the straps of my favorite party dress is ruined.

Jacqueline, my seamstress, would love this story, if I'd ever tell her.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Bella." He embraces me fully and holds me close, swaying, even though there is no music. I wish for a second that I could hug him back, and then I feel his hands working at the leather around my wrists behind my back.

"I'm going to guide you up the stairs now," he whispers into my hair, dropping the belt to the floor. He kisses my mouth for the first time since he welcomed me in the door tonight, and I melt into him.

Edward takes my hand and leads me up the back stairs. He holds me near to him as we walk down the hall, past Delia's room, past the linen closet, into his bedroom.

This room smells like him. I've always known it, subconsciously, but being blindfolded brings that fact front and center. I love the way he smells.

"I love you," he whispers from behind me, unzipping the back of my dress. He slides the undamaged crystal strap over my shoulder and the dress drops to the floor. Edward holds me steady by the elbow and suggests that I step out of the fabric around my feet. He kisses me again as he unfastens my bra and discards it somewhere unknown. I suddenly feel my garters pop and my stockings droop.

"Turn around and step back," Edward gently commands. I turn and step back once, bumping into the bed. I sit and feel Edward's hands on my feet, slipping my shoes off then pulling my stockings away. The last thing to go is the garter belt, and I'm lying on the bed in nothing but black silk covering my eyes.

"I'm taking my shirt off," Edward tells me. "My shoes and socks." I feel goose bumps rise all over my flesh, from the cool air and his voice. "And my pants."

The bed dips beside me, and his warm hands caress my skin. I sigh and stretch, wanting to curl into him.

"Now I'm just as naked as you."

He's so close to me, and I want him closer, but I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say or do anything he doesn't expressly tell me to do. The chair, one of our agreed upon props, is nowhere to be found, but I'm still wearing the blindfold. I don't know all the rules.

"Hello, pretty girl," Edward mutters as he slips the blindfold up from in front of my eyes. "How do you feel?"

I gasp as a rush of color and images flood my vision. Edward is so beautiful, smiling softly, lying nude next to me on his side. I throw my arms around his neckand kiss him. He chuckles against my lips and his arms slowly embrace me.

Fuck the rules.

We lie on top of his covers and make out like we're seventeen, touching everywhere, kissing and laughing. When I remember that I have a voice I thank him for doing this for me.

"I told you I'll do anything you want," Edward replies. "I always want to make you happy, Bella."

"I want you to be happy, too," I admit. "Did you like that?"

"I did." His hands grow more insistent as he strokes my hips and thighs. "I like trying new things with you, and I love making you squirm." He smirks and pulls my bottom lip into his mouth.

"Well, I was definitely squirmy," I laugh. "I think your Quiet Bella rule kinda clinched that deal."

"Yeah?" Edward rolls us so I'm on my back then slowly guides himself inside me. "I know being quiet is a hard thing for you." He jokes. "Maybe I'll gag you next time."

He thrusts hard and deep, slow and steady. I hold onto his shoulders and just feel him.

"Oh…" I breathe. "You just might have to do that, Edward." I wrap my legs around his hips, joining my ankles behind him. "I have a lot to say."

"Tell me all about it, baby."

We make love and it's intense as always, and I'm smiling the whole time as always.

After cleaning up and calming down, Edward pulls Peter's book out from under the bed.

"Did you steal that from my apartment?" I pretend to be offended. I'm not really offended.

"Shush." Edward puts his hand over my mouth as he walks on his knees toward me on the bed, the book tucked under his arm, fingers holding a place. He takes his hand away from my face and flops beside me, opening the book to one particular page. "So I'm serious about a gag. How do you feel about it?"

"Am I really that mouthy?" I tease, but I know he isn't kidding. I also know the gag isn't about me being mouthy.

"Yes, you're very mouthy, and I like it a lot," he asserts, as he gazes longingly at the image of the woman bent over an arm of a couch with what looks like a clown's nose between her teeth. I laugh and tell him I doubt I could keep a straight face knowing I had a clown's nose in my mouth.

"Fine, no ball-gag." Edward rolls his eyes and tosses the book back to the floor before grabbing me in a mock-wrestling hold. "How about I use your panties? Would that be less funny?"

We wrestle around on the bed and talk more about what gags won't make me laugh or… gag. Panties are gross, in my opinion, so we decide to do more research for other options. We're both pretty tired tonight, and we have plenty of time to figure it out later.

Edward and I also talk about our new ranch. Getting to play like this more often is just one more bonus to moving in together. I love Edward, and I love looking forward to our life together. He's my very favorite playmate and my very best friend.

* * *

**Five Years Later**

**AN: I guess this is sort of an epilogue. It was written 18 months after the completion of the story. Moojuicey sent me picspiration and I started typing...**

I didn't go out that night looking for anything more than dinner with a couple of my friends, but after five minutes of talking to Bella, I knew the night would hold much more than that. I knew I wanted her—she was sexy and smart and sweet.

What I didn't know was that she would end up being the love of my life. My body knew, though. Like the way it knows when it's time to get out of bed even if your alarm hasn't gone off, or how you get a little lightheaded if you go for a day hike without packing a lunch. And how, right now, five years later, looking at her in that vintage corset makes me want to slay a wild animal for dinner or breed or build a fucking house for her because… Damn.

"Bella, what do you say?" I ask in a tone of voice that gives absolutely no indication of the kind of primal urge I have to just fucking takeher right now. Nor does it indicate my hope that we won't re-enact the last time I told her to talk to me while we were playing – she called me Sir and then giggled hysterically for three straight minutes.

Bella likes being tied up and spanked. She likes to role-play like she's a pouty little girl and call me Daddy. She even begs me to say she's my dirty little slut every time I fuck her ass. All that being said, Bella and I don't fit into any kind of mold. I realized this one day about two years ago when I joined a BDSM website for couples – we just didn't fit in.

Tonight, she's wrapped in silk from head to toe – black blindfold, blood red corset and garters, sheer stockings, and a thin black rope binding her shins to her thighs.

She's reclined against a mountain of pillows at the head of our king size bed, framed by the gold bedding and down comforter she loves to burrow into every night. Her wrists are tied together over her head, suspended by more rope from the top frame of the canopy. She looks debauched and regal all at once – such a dichotomy, my Bella: elegance and depravity.

"Please?"

Her husky voice envelops me in the warmth that comes from the kind of pleasure she's feeling. We've been at it for almost an hour now, and her voice has grown heavy and sticky – tangible and almost its own character in our scene. The lusty quality of it reminds me of what she wants, what I want, and how good this feels to both of us.

Bella and I have always been experimental, and I know now that I've always been dominant, even before I knew her. At this point, we've tried almost everything there is to try, except bringing in other partners. When she asked me if I was interested in experimenting with a third person, I almost blew a fucking gasket. That was the day we agreed to fill out checklists, which taught us a lot about each other's boundaries and what we wanted from our sexual relationship.

"Please, what, baby?" I ask as I drag the flogger over her skin.

When we started earlier this evening, I bound her legs in a frogtie, which is simple to do but garners amazing results. She's immobilized and splayed open wide. I watch the falls of the flogger play around one knee then down to her foot. She bites her lip to stop from smiling too big or giggling.

I used to have to gag her to keep us in the moment. It's fun to gag her, because we have a joke about her being mouthy and that I like to shut her up, but I don't like _having_ to gag her. At one point, I told her we should stop trying to play all together, since we didn't need it, like I'd read about on that website. I told her I just needed her—that I just wanted to be with her. But then she said playing was fun, even if we didn't need it, and she said, "Fuck the rules, Edward. It's just you and me, right? We don't need to follow anybody's rules but our own."

I continue to stroke her with the suede, up the inside of her thigh, lightly brushing between her legs, then down the other thigh. The flogger thrills her, I can tell, and I feel the goosebumps on my own skin as I watch them rise on hers. She says she loves the sensation of suede, as opposed to the leather and fur. She likes the heavy, clinging whisper of it over her skin.

"Harder?"

She answers my question with a question and that worried little crease in the skin of her brow that makes me want to kiss her and hold her, tell her everything's going to be all right. The skin that makes me want to throw her down and fuck her till she chants my name.

"Always asking for it harder," I say. "Such a good girl. So polite." I keep my voice calm and quiet – even like the strokes of the flogger against her body. Bella whimpers when I bring it close to her pussy again.

"Harder like this?" I ask her as I flick my wrist then smack her between her legs with the suede. She gasps and her body jolts. She starts to twist at the waist to close her bound legs.

"No, no, baby," I tell her. I almost have to use a hand to stop her, but she's already opening back up on her own, relaxing into the pillows again, sighing.

She's mostly bare – no panties and just a thin strip of hair. I peel down the delicate cups that cover her pretty tits so that I can use the flogger on her there. I don't hit her hard, but I use a steady rhythm. She's biting her lip and I think she might make herself bleed like she's done before. I love how tight her nipples are, puckered and dark. Her skin is so pink everywhere else. She's breathing slow and deep through her nose. She's so ready.

_Thwap… thwap… thwap..._

"Let go," I whisper.

Sometimes she needs permission. She needs someone to tell her it's okay to be loud or excited, to enjoy something so fully. Even after so many years and so many experiences, after vows and affirmation and love and laughter, Bella still needs reassurance that she can trust me. And I love giving it to her.

"I'm right here, Bella." Two more strokes across her bare chest and she opens her mouth. "Let me hear you."

Her response is long and drawn out, breathy and guttural. So fucking beautiful. She _really_ loves this flogger.

"Such a good girl," I say, slapping and swirling the suede over her stiff, dusky nipples, wanting to throw the flogger across the room and bury myself in that warm, vulnerable spot right where she wants it. That instinct that tells me to _fuck fuck fuck_ her right now is the same feeling that is making her squirm and whine.

Fuck, she wants it.

"Tell me you're my good girl, Bella." I need to hear her say it.

"I'm your good girl," she answers, quick and clear.

She arches her back and bites her lip. She tries to roll her hips, too, but her position doesn't give her leverage for that, so she pouts a little, and I want to fuck that pout right off her face.

I almost laugh at her glowering response, but if I do, she might hear me and then this will all be over. I don't want to break the spell where she's my little fuck toy and I'm her Master, even if I'm barely keeping my shit together, and I'm barely a master of anything, let alone her. I think we all know Bella's the one in charge here. She always has been. She's everything.

I switch from using the flogger on her chest back to her thighs. I swipe over and around the silk rope as she writhes, wanting it back between her legs. I listen to it slapping and dragging, and I watch her body echo what I'm feeling.

Sometimes I can't breathe when I look at her because I forget how much I need her, and other times I'm just so stunned by what we mean and what we create together. Times like this, I'm reminded of our reality – she's mine, and I'm hers. She promised me forever in front of 87 of our closest friends and family members.

"That's right, you are a good girl," I answer. "And do you know what good girls get? They get everything they want."

I didn't wait for her to answer, because it was rhetorical and she knows it. I turn the flogger back between her legs and watch her go just a little bit crazier. She tries to spread her legs wider, and my dick gets harder.

"Tell me what you want," I say, and my vision narrows on her movements. Her body is warm and sweet, glistening from her heat and want. "Tell me. You know I'll give it to you."

"You," she whispers, hot and wet. She's on the verge of tears from wanting. "All I want is you."

Without a second thought, I drop the flogger to the floor and climb up next to her.

I watch her for seconds that feel like forever, her chest rising and falling, her jaw and fists clenching. She's to the point where she wants to be done playing. She wants me to hold her, kiss her, love her, fuck her. She wants what I want.

"Okay, baby," I answer, pulling my t-shirt over my head then cupping my cock through my pants. I kneel between her legs and reach for her feet and her ankles, caressing her gently. I run my other hand through my hair as I look at her, feeling the silk stockings and ties over her skin, hot and smooth. I think about what it feels like to be inside her as both of my hands move to loosen the rope that's held her bound for way too long tonight.

"I love you so much," I tell her. It's a given now, but I never want her to wonder. I always want her to know, and to believe, that I love her until the end of time.

"I love you, too." She sounds content and relieved. I don't know if her relief is due to the fact that I'm untying her or because I told her I loved her, but it doesn't matter – I made her feel that way. I gave her that relief. And I'm going to give it to her, forever.

Silk and silk and silk unravels. Bella sighs and stretches, slipping her feet outside my calves. Once I have her legs free of the rope, I unhook her stockings and slip them off, leaving them drooping over the side of the bed. Her wrists are still bound, and she's still blindfolded, but I reach up to loosen the slack enough for her to lie flat on her back. I sit on my haunches and look at her.

Jesus Christ, she's so fucking perfect.

One of the things that fascinates me about bondage, almost as much as Bella's reactions, is the marks on her skin after. The first time I untied her after practicing with rope, I was absolutely enthralled by the way her skin was marked and creased.

I was worried, of course, that it had hurt her, but when she told me she was fine and that she liked it, I let myself be more absorbed by what I was seeing. I ran my fingers over the ridges it made in her usually unblemished skin. The severity and reality of those indentations made me want to be with her, in her, so intensely.

My instinct to possess her is what drives this part of our relationship. And I want full access to all of her. Right now.

My feet slip toward the footboard. I splay my hands behind each of her knees, running my fingers over the pretty welts. I push her legs open as far as possible, kissing the rope-like notches encircling her dangling calves.

"Bella," I whisper and breathe over her tender skin, and she shivers. I pitch forward to settle on my elbows and lick the wet, warm space at the juncture of her wide-open thighs. "How do you feel, baby? Talk to me."

"So good, Edward." Her breath and her voice vibrate in the air around us. She breathes deep and strong. I glance up as I lick her and see that she's absently tugging at the ties around her wrists. I nip at her lips and inner thigh, and she yelps.

"Keep talking," I tell her. My hands travel from her knees, down her thighs, and I slip a finger inside her. Her feet fall flat to the mattress while I fuck her with my finger and kiss her clit light and soft. She bucks against my face and whines. She's so fucking wet, it's nothing at all for me to add two more fingers as I pull her clit between my lips.

"I want your cock," she mutters. "Everywhere. Right now."

She demands this a lot, saying that Supercock should be able to be everywhere at once, but since I actually only have one cock, I have to choose where I'm going to put it. I reluctantly stop licking her – because I never get sick of eating pussy – but just long enough to stand and get rid of my pants.

When I lay down, I position us in a 69, scooting my feet close to the headboard, so I don't have to untie Bella for her to reach my cock with her mouth. Then I flip us so she's on top.

"Grab the headboard, Bella." Her wrists are loose enough in their bindings that she's able to twist them and grip the headboard for balance. She does so quickly, and I feel her body relax over me, her knees on either side of my ribcage.

"There you go." I plant my feet at the headboard and thrust my hips, and my cock brushes her cheek. "Take me in your mouth."

"Oh, hi there," she whispers and lets out a satisfied little sigh before I feel her caressing tongue and her tight, slick lips. I thrust again out of instinct, up into her mouth and her throat.

Her hands are desperately gripping the headboard. Her back is bowed as she straddles my torso like a reverse cowgirl. I'm holding her knees to the mattress from behind as I fuck her throat. Even though she's on top of me, I'm in complete control.

"That's right, take it like a good little slut," I mutter, and she moans around my cock. I slip a few fingers inside her and watch her ride my hand and suck my cock. I wish I had set up our video camera, because Bella's going to be really sad she missed the sight of herself semi-suspended above me looking like my beautiful, dirty whore.

When I start to feel like I'm coming before I'm ready, I switch gears and sit up, pulling away from her mouth, leaving my dick bare and cold; her pussy is warm and wet on my fingers. I grin from ear to ear, gripping her hip and maneuvering her over my hand to get my fingers and thumb wetter and wetter. She whines and bucks her hips, and I chuckle. She tells me not to laugh at her, and by the time I have enough lubricant to do exactly what I want to her, she's gritting her teeth and swearing.

"Fuck!" she shouts and flips her hair, moving to look at me over her shoulder, but she's can't see me through the silk over her eyes. I slip my thumb into her ass and two fingers up to massage her clit.

"Come on, Bella," I pat her thigh and balance her over my lap. "Show me how good you can fuck my hand." My fingers manipulate her and my thumb slips a little deeper with each familiar rotation of her hips. This is one of my favorite things to do to her, and she loves it too. I love watching her let go like this, like some wild, bucking mare. It's just about the most breathtaking thing I've ever seen.

I rotate my hand, and my ring finger slips inside her pussy. I'm pretty sure it's the cool metal of my ring that finally pushes her over the edge. I settle my free hand on the small of her back and watch her explode.

I feel her ripple and hear her cry out, and her whole body shakes. I slowly pull my wet fingers out of her body and use both hands to move her off my lap, but keep her kneeling. I love her in this position, hands tied, gripping the headboard, on her fucking knees.

"Oh, Bella…" I situate myself behind her, on my own knees. "I'm not done yet."

I grasp her hips and straddle her thighs, pushing them together. Bella's always tight, but I like immobilizing her this way. I like dominating her. Taking her like this is better than tying her up, better than gagging her, better than spanking her.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, baby," I tell her as I hold her still with one hand and guide myself inside her with the other. "So hard. And you'll love it, won't you?"

"Yes," Bella nods her head and moans. "God…"

I deliver on my promise, fucking her slow and so hard we're both grunting with the thrusts. I unfasten her corset while I fuck her. I take it all the way off and discard it to the floor. She's completely bare to me now. I kiss her back, nip her shoulders, reach around to pinch and pull her pretty little nipples.

I grasp her hands at the headboard with my free hand. The silk of the rope around her wrists rubs against my forearm and sets me off. My other hand slips down her body, presses over her belly, and my fingers rest against her clit. Just that simple touch and Bella is coming within seconds. Her pulsing brings me with her.

We breathe and whisper terms of endearment, and I love her more with every second of my life that passes. I untie her, pull her into my arms, slip off her blindfold, and kiss her breathless.

"That was awesome," she sighs, settling beside me, curling into my chest.

"It was," I agree, as she scrapes her teeth over one of my nipples, licking. "Jesus, didn't you get enough?"

"You know I can never get enough of you."

She nuzzles into me, her fingers pressing into the skin over my heart. My hand finds its way to her chest and cups one of her breasts, squeezing and pinching.

"Now who can't get enough?" Her breathy, little voice taunts me as she grinds her hips. "Come on. I know you got some more in you, old man."

I roll her to her back and settle my hips between her legs. We're wet and sticky, and I feel as whole and loved as any man can feel. Bella brings her legs up around my hips, and I smile.

"Maybe just a little bit," I mutter into her neck and slide my hands into her hair.

We still have Kita and Angel, and we foster any dog or cat whenever he or she needs it. We have two horses, a llama with a traumatic brain injury, a family of foxes who just won't go away, and a mountain lion who lurks on the property thinking Angel is his homeboy or a nummy treat, I just can't decide.

Delia is here every Spring Break, Summer, and alternating Winter holidays. As soon as she starts middle school she will live with us full-time, which isn't soon enough for me or for Bella. I'd love to have kids of our own someday. Bella's apprehensive, though, and I will never push her, because what we have is perfect as it is. We do everything together, and if we don't both want it, then it just isn't right.

It really doesn't matter what else we have or what we do, as long as we have each other.

* * *

**6. Malcolm**

**AN: This was originally written for FGB 2011 to battle children's cancer, and is dedicated to Wime09.**

**~seven years later~**

"Oops," Bella says, when her hand slips on the edge of the hot tub as she lowers herself into the bubbling water. She's spilled a little red wine on herself, and I lick my lips as I watch the diluted liquid turn dark pink and slide over her collarbone down between her full breasts.

Bella and I haven't had sex in nine weeks. She had a long delivery with our son, Malcolm, which resulted in some tearing. She's also breastfeeding, so she hasn't been keen on drinking, either. Tonight, we're celebrating our first night alone, when Bella can have more than a sip of my Guinness and I might be able to give her an orgasm.

"I think the next child I bear will be Peter and Garrett's for watching Delia and Mal tonight," Bella says with a breathy sigh as the hot water and steam lovingly surround her smooth, wet skin, then she takes a small sip from her glass.

"You deserve this, baby," I say, being careful with my voice not to interrupt her calm. "Relax and savor it."

Her little black bikini is new. She complained about having to buy something when she realized her other suit didn't fit her. Then she kept covering up her little belly with her hands even after she found one that fit perfectly, but she's only nine weeks postpartum. I wish she didn't feel so uncomfortable with her new curves, because, to be honest, I am going to be so sad to see them go when she gets back to running and her regular workouts.

I've always loved Bella's body; she holds herself with a quiet confidence and grace that is unearthly in its sex appeal. What I feel when I'm near her—the intense draw to touch her, kiss her, taste her—is unique to her and her alone—and her newly rounded hips and thighs and plump breasts are driving me insane.

"I need to be careful how much I drink," she mutters and giggles lightly. "I'm glad I pumped enough for Mal, but I'm already feeling the alcohol and I've only had two sips."

Bella and I were… surprised with Mal. Bella was on the pill. We were still undecided in the baby-making category. Then Bella came down with a nasty case of strep in need of antibiotics, we miscalculated days and fertility, chose not to use a condom, and voila!: Mal.

"Set your glass aside for a few minutes and lay your head back, baby," I say. "Just feel the water."

She does as I suggest, and I watch her float as I sip my wine, enjoying the silence.

Delia lives with us full-time now, and while I am pleased to have her in my life, she is a typical pre-teen, who thinks she's an adult, and all her friends are battling each other for prima donna status. She's the best older sister for Mal, though. She loves having a baby brother to coo over and coddle and show off to her friends. It's adorable, but tonight is a long-overdue getaway from the chaos that is our life at times.

After a few minutes, I reach for Bella and she doesn't flinch or push me away. She smiles with her eyes closed.

My hand slides over her ankle, shin, and knee as I drift over to her side of the tub. I hang beside her in the sparkling heat and wet, letting everything other than us, and this moment dissipate in the mist until we have to go back to the real world in the morning.

She hums as her legs gently open with the light effervescent force of the jet currents. I try not to let my mind get ahead of me with images of her spread open, back arched, hair wild, legs bound, calling my name, because I have to take this slow. I try not to think about our first time together, when I had her on her hands and knees on a cold hard floor, her hair in my hands and her skin in my teeth—even though right now feels like a first time all over again with the nervousness and need and not knowing what to expect—because I have to take this slow.

"I love your hands," she whispers in that sweet, husky little voice of hers. I will never grow tired of hearing her voice, not even if all she ever says is that she loves my hands.

I can hear that her voice is softening, but I can also hear the edge in her that has yet to retract. The edge that's still reaching out for her baby boy, checking to see that he's sleeping soundly, not too hungry, that he's safe and warm. I can feel her relaxing, but she could tense up at any moment, so I don't say anything in return and I don't perform any sudden moves to change the way I'm using my hands; I simply feel the moment and keep steady.

My hand turns and roams her side with the backs of my fingers. I feel the curve of her hip and the contour of her waist, and I forget to hesitate before I turn my hand back again and lay it flat over her belly. Just when it occurs to me that she might feel self-conscious or pull away, just before I pull away myself so she won't feel pressured or awkward, she rests her hand on mine.

"Remember the night we met?" she asks, prompting me to open my eyes and focus on her body language because I realize I must've completely misread her tone. "I was so nervous, but I wanted you so much, and I just knew… I knew you'd be good to me."

She laces her fingers with mine and pulls my hand to her mouth, kisses my knuckles then slips one of my fingertips between her lips. She opens her eyes and looks at me, swirls her tongue around the tip of my finger. My ears start to buzz and I feel my body venture outside of my careful rationale to take things slow. Because, when it comes to Bella, things are never what they seem.

"I'll be good to you, baby," I agree. I lick my lips and shift my gaze to what she's doing with her mouth. For the first time in weeks, my erection is a welcome presence in Bella and my interaction. I don't have to feel guilty because she wants—and is ready for—what I want, and I'm going to love giving it to her.

I let her get my fingers wet a different way than the water was and enjoy the feeling of her mouth and tongue. When I start to relax into the moment, old habits emerge between us. I twist my hand and hook two fingers over her bottom teeth then pull her toward me. I drop my hands to her hips and kiss her mouth. She rests her hands on my shoulders and wraps her legs around my waist. I pull her bottom lip between my teeth and she moans.

"Wanna stay in or get out?" I ask, nuzzling her neck and jaw.

"I want you in," she whispers, grinding her hips against mine. "So we should probably get out."

Bella has a fear of sex in pools and hot tubs, which sort of sucks because I have a fantasy of having her this way. Yet, I respect her wishes, obviously.

"Okay." I pull away from her, smiling, seeing her smile back at me. "Come on. Grab your glass."

I take her hand in mine and wait for her to retrieve her wine, then we take the few short steps out of the hot tub, up to the slate patio. I grab our towels and wrap her up then quickly dry off and lead her inside the house.

We chose to stay at the condo in town because we haven't actually moved any baby stuff in here yet, so it feels a little like a vacation. Peter and Garrett are down on the ranch with Delia and Mal, so the transition was pretty seamless.

Bella sets her glass on a side table and unwraps herself enough to squeeze excess water from her hair with her towel. Her eyes follow me as I set my own glass down and move to the gas fireplace and start it up. When I turn back to her, she's curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a thermal blanket and sipping her wine again.

"Warm enough?" I ask, noticing her bikini in a pile on the floor next to the sofa, signaling that she's bare underneath the blanket.

She nods her head. I act on instinct, which is a thing that's been left dormant recently and that I think we've both missed, as I drop to my knees in front of where she's resting. I slowly peel the blanket away from her body, my eyes never leaving hers.

"Bella," I say. "I wanna use my fingers on you, baby. Do you want that?"

"Yes," she breathes, closes her eyes, and lets her head fall back against the sofa.

She lets me push the blanket all the way off of her, and her knees fall open, as she turns to lay flat on her back and burrow in the cushions. I sink one hand under her head, in her slightly dampened hair, lightly grasp one breast with my other hand, then envelop her other nipple with my lips. We both moan in delight.

Bella arches her back and digs her fingers into my hair, letting her other arm sprawl over her head. I tease and lick at her sensitive nipples then her neck and her earlobes as my hand wanders down between her breasts, over her belly, and, finally, between her legs.

We both moan, again.

"Fuck," she breathes, harsh and raspy. She bucks her hips. "Please…"

"There's my girl." I chuckle. "I love it when you beg. Tell me what you want, baby."

My fingers slide lightly over her clit as my mouth moves back to her nipples, carefully licking, kissing.

"This… this is…" She inhales deeply. "This is what I want."

"Is this all you want?" I ask, teasing her entrance with just the tip of two fingers then quickly pulling back and up over her clit again. I kiss the underside of her rounded breasts and pull my palm out from under her head, keeping my fingers wrapped around her neck, slip my thumb inside her mouth.

She's wet and writhing, and I'm working my mouth over her ribcage and her belly when she grabs my hand and pushes two of my fingers inside herself.

"I want it all," she says with a gasp.

"Everything?" I ask, taking her lead and sliding my fingers in and out, rubbing my thumb lightly over her clit. "Can I taste you?"

"Yes," she whimpers, touching my face and holding my hand.

I climb onto the couch with her, taking no time at all to settle between her thighs, one of my favorite fucking places in the world, the place I have missed so fucking much.

Christ.

I kiss her delicately, right where her thigh meets her pussy, that sensitive skin that she waxes bare. I stroke her, kiss her again, touch her with my tongue, feel her move under and around me, listen to her moan.

"I love you," I whisper, loud enough for her to hear. She tells me she loves me too, and I push forward a little further to rest her knees over my shoulders then open her up to me completely.

I lick her long and slow, smooth my thumb along the side of her clit, slip two fingers inside her again, and twist. Then I bring my eyes up just in time to watch her come apart.

"I'm gonna fuck you, now, baby," I say, rising to my knees between her legs, massaging her skin, holding her thighs apart with my hands just behind her knees.

Thankfully, Supercock isn't negatively affected by my 42 years, or the fact that my wife just had a baby. He is willing and ready to go.

I slip inside her for the first time in more than two months and we let out a collective sigh at the sensation of being reconnected. I slowly arch over her, our foreheads touching. I don't thrust; I don't even move. I just hold her close and appreciate the feeling of being with her like this again.

Bella's knees slip from my grip when she wraps her legs around my back, crossing her ankles, and thrusts her hips upward. I slowly collapse onto her, my hands landing on either side of her head against the armrest of the sofa. I feel her squeeze and rotate her hips and think about a snippet of a conversation I heard with her and Alice about Kegel exercises, and I try not to lose myself in her too quickly.

She's already come once, but tonight isn't only about orgasms—I need to be with her. We need to be together.

"Hold on, baby," I whisper and brush my lips across her jaw, grip her hips to slow her down.

I shift my weight to get better leverage on the sloppy cushions of our sofa and change my angle. I kiss her again and her feet slip from my back and fall to the sofa.

She throws her arms over her head and lets me take over.

I hold on tight to her hands and the armrest and fuck her slow and hard, spiraling my hips to hit her in all the right spots, rubbing her insides just the way she likes, reacquainting myself with every bit of her. She meets me thrust for thrust and shows me some tricks of her own.

"Fuck me," she whispers. "God, I love you so much… You're… everything."

"Yes," I whisper back, not caring about being quiet, but just wanting to be close to her and intimate and out of breath. "Love you… so much, baby."

Bella's fingers grip my hands hard and she presses her forehead harder into my shoulder. I can feel the familiar tremor inside her—the frantic rhythm of her hips, the vibration in her body, and her shaky gasps. She's going to come again and so am I.

"Come on, Bella," I breathe into her ear. "I can feel you. Give it to me."

I'm sliding in and out of her as she comes. Her whole body arches up under me and her skin against mine makes me lose my mind. I bury my head in the crook of her neck and shout, slamming into her and kissing her throat.

"What do you think Mal wants for his first Christmas?" she asks me as we cuddle on the couch, watching the fire, her back against my chest.

After getting to know each other's body parts again, in new, exciting ways, we partook in some bread pudding that Garrett baked earlier in the week. Bread pudding is Bella's new favorite dessert.

"Haven't we already bought his Christmas presents?" I ask instead of answer her ridiculous question, because we have already bought his Christmas presents.

However, if I know Bella, she won't be done buying presents for anyone until Christmas Eve, and then she'll be kicking herself for forgetting something that they really wanted.

I love my wife.

"Well, yeah," she says, scoffing. "But he's an infant, Edward."

She says this like it's an explanation, and I guess it is, in a way, but it doesn't matter how much it explains, rationally, because what it definitely does is shows her heart. She wants to give him the best childhood any child could have with toys and playtime and as little worry and fear as possible.

"You're right, baby," I tell her, kissing her temple. "But if he inherits my luck, and finds the best toy ever—the best friend and lover ever—his childhood toys will look like chopped liver."

Bella giggles, and squirms, and rolls into me, burrowing her knee between mine and burying her face in my neck. She nips at my skin, licks the spots where she's bitten me.

"We're both lucky," she whispers, finally kissing me flat on my chest.

I won't argue with her about who's the lucky one. I'll just love her and cherish her and thank God that she loves me back.

* * *

**Thank you to MsKathy, Moojuicey, Wime09, SadtomatoFF, Einfach_mich, and Chele681 for their love and support throught the RME years and beyond. xox**


End file.
